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Entrance  to  the  Mosque  of  the  Alhambra. 


TTbe  Hlbambra 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1865,  by 

GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


COPYRIGHT, 

BY 
G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


•Cbc  Knickerbocker  press,  Ittcw 

Electrotyped,  Printed,  and  Bound  by 
G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 


Elbambra 

NOTE    TO   "DARRO"    EDITION 


IRote  to  tbe  "Hterro"  Coition. 

A  LTHOUGH  there  have  been  alterations 
^\  in  the  palace  of  the  Alhambra  and  its 
surroundings  since  it  was  visited  by 
Washington  Irving  in  1829,  it  is  still  the  at- 
tractive place  so  charmingly  described  by  him 
in  these  pages. 

Probably  the  most  striking  change  is  the 
growth  of  the  great  elm-forest,  covering  one 
side  of  the  Alhambra  hill,  through  which  the 
traveller  passes  to  reach  the  palace  from 
the  town  of  Granada. 

The  trees  were  planted  by  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington early  in  the  present  century,  and  could 
hardly  have  attained  much  growth  in  Irving' s 
time. 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  beautiful 
approach  to  the  fairy  palace  of  the  Moorish 
kings. 


iv  note  to  tbe  "Darro"  BDttton 

Leaving  the  Plaza  Nueva,  in  Granada,  and 
climbing  up  the  narrow,  winding  Calle  de  los 
Gomeres  and  through  the  Puerta  de  las  Gra- 
nadas,  the  traveller  suddenly  finds  himself  in  a 
thickly  planted  forest  of  tall,  slender  elm-trees. 
Well-kept  paths  run  in  several  directions,  with 
here  and  there  a  massive  stone  basin  filled  by 
the  running  waters  the  old  Moors  loved  so  well. 

On  one  side,  glimpses  of  the  white  Sierra 
Nevada  are  caught  through  the  thick  green 
foliage  ;  while  in  the  other  direction,  far  above, 
are  the  red  walls  and  towers  of  the  Alhambra. 
The  hoarse  hum  of  myriads  of  locusts  and 
crickets,  the  singing  of  birds,  the  music  of 
rushing  waters,  all  tend  to  make  this  the  most 
enchanting  spot  in  the  world, — a  veritable 
paradise  of  nature  ; — and  the  paradise  of  art 
lies  near  by. 

A  few  minutes'  walk,  in  the  shade  of  a  thick 
green  canopy,  brings  the  traveller  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  Alhambra  enclosure,  the  massive 
Puerta  del  Juicio.  Inside,  the  great  open 
Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  the  unfinished  palace 
of  Charles  V.,  the  little  town  with  it's  church, 
convent,  and  gardens,  and  the  ruined  walls  and 


•Note  to  tbe  "2>arro"  BDition 

towers  are  all  at  the  present  time  very  much  as 
they  were  in  1829  •  better  kept,  perhaps,  cleared 
of  much  of  the  rubbish  that  then  littered  them. 

It  is  chiefly  in  the  palace  of  the  Alhambra  that 
a  marked  change  has  taken  place.  This  beauti- 
ful building  is  no  longer  the  home  of  the  public 
official  or  the  poor  peasant ;  and  it  is  doubtful 
whether  the  most  influential  traveller  could  now 
obtain  permission  to  reside  within  its  walls. 

The  silent  halls  are  peopled  now  only  by  the 
occasional  traveller  and  talkative  custodian. 
All  signs  of  domestic  life  have  been  swept 
away.  Skilful  restorations,  during  the  past 
forty  years  under  the  direction  of  Sefior  Con- 
treras,  have  added,  perhaps,  to  the  general 
symmetry  and  beauty  of  its  wonderful  courts 
and  halls,  and  preserved  much  that  would 
otherwise  have  fallen  to  ruin.  The  removal 
of  innumerable  coats  of  whitewash  has  re- 
vealed on  every  wall  a  petrified  veil  of  the 
most  delicate  lacework.  A  soft  cream  color 
prevails,  no  general  attempt  having  been  made 
to  restore  the  original  tints,  although  fragments 
are  still  to  be  found,  here  and  there,  with  their 
bright  primary  colors,  red,  yellow,  and  blue. 


vi  mote  to  tbe  "2>arro"  BDitfon 

The  fountains  are  no  longer  filled  with  leap- 
ing waters,  as  in  living's  time,  many  of  the 
channels  having  become  clogged,  and  now 
only  some  of  them  play  on  rare  occasions. 

The  memory  of  Washington  Irving  is  still 
green  about  the  Alhambra.  He  has  become, 
as  it  were,  a  kind  of  genius  loci.  The  rooms 
he  occupied  are  shown  to  the  visitor  ;  the  Hotel 
"  Washington  Irving  "  stands  just  outside  the 
walls,  on  the  edge  of  the  elm-forest ;  and  Span- 
ish translations  of  "The  Alhambra"  and  of 
"  The  Conquest  of  Granada"  are  to  be  found 
in  every  bookshop. 

R.  H.  I,. 

GRANADA,  May,  1890. 


preface  to  tbe  IRevfsefc  lE&ition. 

ROUGH  drafts  of  some  of  the  following 
tales  and  essays  were  actually  written 
during  a  residence  in  the  Alhambra  ; 
others  were  subsequently  added,  founded  on 
notes  and  observations  made  there.  Care  was 
taken  to  maintain  local  coloring  and  verisimili- 
tude ;  so  that  the  whole  might  present  a  faith- 
ful and  living  picture  of  that  microcosm,  that 
singular  little  world  into  which  I  had  been 
fortuitously  thrown  ;  and  about  which  the  ex- 
ternal world  had  a  very  imperfect  idea.  It  was 
my  endeavor  scrupulously  to  depict  its  half 
Spanish,  half  Oriental  character ;  its  mixture 
of  the  heroic,  the  poetic,  and  the  grotesque ; 
to  revive  the  traces  of  grace  and  beauty  fast 
fading  from  its  walls  ;  to  record  the  regal  and 
chivalrous  traditions  concerning  those  who 
once  trod  its  courts ;  and  the  whimsical  and 
superstitious  legends  of  the  motley  race  now 
burrowing  among  its  ruins. 


viii         preface  to  tbe  IRevisefc  EDition 

The  papers  thus  roughly  sketched  out  lay 
for  three  or  four  years  in  my  portfolio,  until  I 
found  myself  in  London,  in  1832,  on  the  eve 
of  returning  to  the  United  States.  I  then  en- 
deavored to  arrange  them  for  the  press,  but 
the  preparations  for  departure  did  not  allow 
sufficient  leisure.  Several  were  thrown  aside 
as  incomplete ;  the  rest  were  put  together 
somewhat  hastily  and  in  rather  a  crude  and 
chaotic  manner. 

In  the  present  edition  I  have  revised  and  re- 
arranged the  whole  work,  enlarged  some  parts, 
and  added  others,  including  the  papers  origi- 
nally omitted ;  and  have  thus  endeavored  to 
render  it  more  complete  and  more  worthy  of 
the  indulgent  reception  with  which  it  has  been 
favored. 

W.  I. 

Sunny  side,  1851. 


PAGE 
I 

49 


Contents. 

THE  JOURNEY 

PALACE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 
IMPORTANT  NEGOTIATIONS. — THE  AUTHOR  SUC- 
CEEDS TO  THE  THRONE  OF  BOABDIL    .        .71 
INHABITANTS  OF  THE  AUIAMBRA       .        .        .82 
THE  HALI,  OF  AMBASSADORS       .        .        .        .89 

THE  JESUIT'S  LIBRARY 97 

ALHAMAR,  THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE  AI.HAMBRA  .     99 
YUSEF   ABUT,  HAGIG,  THE  FINISHER  OF  THE 

Al,HAMBRA HO 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS       .        .        .        .116 
PANORAMA  FROM  THE  TOWER  OF  COMARES    .  130 

THE  TRUANT 141 

THE  BAI.CONY 146 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON       .       .       .156 

THE  COURT  OF  LIONS 162 

THE  ABENCERRAGES 173 

MEMENTOES  OF  BOABDI^ 192 

PUBLIC  FETES  OF  GRANADA        .       .       .        .199 


Contents 


LOCAL  TRADITIONS        .... 
THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK  . 
LEGEND  OP  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER 
VISITORS  To  THE  ALHAMBKA 
RELICS  AND  GENEALOGIES  . 
THE  GENERALISE 


PAGE 
.  212 

.  216 
.  220 
•  251 
.  258 
.  264 


TTUustrations. 


ENTRANCE  TO  THK  MOSQUE  OF  THE  ALHAM- 

BRA Frontispiece 

GYPSIES  IN  THE  ALBAICIN 18 

VIEW  OE  THE  ALHAMBRA  AND  THE  SlERRA 
NEVADA  FROM  THE  CHURCH  OF  SAN  NICO- 
LAS, ON  THE  ALBAICIN 42 

SECTION    OF    DECORATED     CEILING    IN    THE 

PALACE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA  .  .  .50 
FOREST  OF  ELM  TREES  OUTSIDE  THE  WALLS 

OF  THE  ALHAMBRA 56 

COURT  OF  THE  MYRTLES  (ARRAYANES)  OR 

BASIN    (ALBERCA)   OR,    MORE   CORRECTLY, 

BERKAH  (BLESSING) 68 

PUERTA  DEL  VINO,  IN  THE  PLAZA  DE  LOS 

ALGIBES,  ALHAMBRA 82 

MlHRAB,  IN  A  1/lTTLE  MOSQUE,  NEAR  THE 

PALACE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA  .  .  .  .100 
GARDEN  OF  LINDARAXA,  WITH  WINDOW  OF  THE 

ROOM  OCCUPIED  BY  WASHINGTON  IRVING   .  120 

VOL.  I. 


xn 


1Hlustrations 


I'AGE 

THE  DARRO  AND  TORRE  DE  COMARES      .        .  134 
PUERTA  DEL  Juicio— THE   ENTRANCE  TO  THE 

ENCLOSURE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA   .        .        .  140 
COURT  OF  THE  LIONS,  ALHAMBRA      .        .        .162 

TORRE  DE  LA  CAUTIVA 188 

TORRE  DE  LOS  HIDALGOS,  FROM  THE  TORRE 

DE  LA  VELA 206 

TOWER  AND  HOTEL   OF   THE  SIETE  SUELOS, 

ALHAMBRA 220 

THE  GENERALIFE  FROM  THE  TORRE  DE  CO- 
MARES,  ALHAMBRA 264 

From  photographs  taken  by  MR.   RICHARD   H. 

LAWRENCE  and  others. 
Vol.  I. 


THE  ALHAMBRA. 


Ube  Sourno?. 

T  N  the  spring  of  1829,  the  author  of  this  work, 
whom  curiosity  had  brought  into  Spain, 
made  a  rambling  expedition  from  Seville 
to  Granada  in  company  with  a  friend,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Russian  Embassy  at  Madrid.  Ac- 
cident had  thrown  us  together  from  distant 
regions  of  the  globe,  and  a  similarity  of  taste 
led  us  to  wander  together  among  the  romantic 
mountains  of  Andalusia.  Should  these  pages 
meet  his  eye,  wherever  thrown  by  the  duties 
of  his  station,  whether  mingling  in  the  pa- 
geantry of  courts,  or  meditating  on  the  truer 
glories  of  nature,  may  they  recall  the  scenes  of 
our  adventurous  companionship,  and  with  them 
the  recollection  of  one,  in  whom  neither  time 


2  tlbe  aibambra 

nor  distance  will  obliterate  the  remembrance 
of  his  gentleness  and  worth.* 

And  here,  before  setting  forth,  let  me  indulge 
in  a  few  previous  remarks  on  Spanish  scenery 
and  Spanish  travelling.  Many  are  apt  to 
picture  Spain  to  their  imaginations  as  a  soft, 
southern  region,  decked  out  with  luxuriant 
charms  of  voluptuous  Italy.  On  the  contrary, 
though  there  are  exceptions  in  some  of  the 
maritime  provinces,  yet,  for  the  greater  part, 
it  is  a  stern,  melancholy  country,  with  rugged 
mountains,  and  long  sweeping  plains,  destitute 
of  trees,  and  indescribably  silent  and  lonesome, 
partaking  of  the  savage  and  solitary  character 
of  Africa.  What  adds  to  this  silence  and  lone- 
liness is  the  absence  of  singing-birds,  a  natural 
consequence  of  the  want  of  groves  and  hedges. 
The  vulture  and  the  eagle  are  seen  wheeling 
about  the  mountain  cliffs  and  soaring  over  the 
plains,  and  groups  of  shy  bustards  stalk  about 
the  heaths  ;  but  the  myriads  of  smaller  birds, 
which  animate  the  whole  face  of  other  coun- 
tries, are  met  with  in  but  few  provinces  in 
Spain,  and  in  those  chiefly  among  the  orchards 
and  gardens  which  surround  the  habitations 
of  man. 

*Note  to  the  Revised  Edition.—  The  Author  feels  at 
liberty  to  mention  that  his  travelling  companion  was 
the  Prince  Dolgorouki,  at  present  Russian  Minister  at 
the  Court  of  Persia. 


In  the  interior  provinces  the  traveller  occa- 
sionally traverses  great  tracts  cultivated  with 
grain  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  waving  at 
times  with  verdure,  at  other  times  naked  and 
sunburnt,  but  he  looks  round  in  vain  for  the 
hand  that  has  tilled  the  soil.  At  length  he 
perceives  some  village  on  a  steep  hill  or  rugged 
crag,  with  mouldering  battlements  and  ruined 
watch-tower — a  stronghold,  in  old  times,  against 
civil  war  or  Moorish  inroad  ;  for  the  custom 
among  the  peasantry  of  congregating  together 
for  mutual  protection  is  still  kept  up  in  most 
parts  of  Spain,  in  consequence  of  the  maraud- 
ings of  roving  freebooters. 

But  though  a  great  part  of  Spain  is  deficient 
in  the  garniture  of  groves  and  forests,  and  the 
softer  charms  of  ornamental  cultivation,  yet  its 
scenery  is  noble  in  its  severity  and  in  unison 
with  the  attributes  of  its  people ;  and  I  think 
that  I  better  understand  the  proud,  hardy, 
frugal,  and  abstemious  Spaniard,  his  manly 
defiance  of  hardships  and  contempt  of  effemi- 
nate indulgences,  since  I  have  seen  the  country 
he  inhabits. 

There  is  something,  too,  in  the  sternly  sim- 
ple features  of  the  Spanish  landscape,  that 
impresses  on  the  soul  a  feeling  of  sublimity. 
The  immense  plains  of  the  Castiles  and  of  La 
Mancha,  extending  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 


aibambra 


derive  an  interest  from  their  very  nakedness 
and  immensity,  and  possess,  in  some  degree, 
the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  ocean.  In  ranging 
over  these  boundless  wastes,  the  eye  catches 
sight  here  and  there  of  a  straggling  herd  of 
cattle  attended  by  a  lonely  herdsman,  motion- 
less as  a  statue,  with  his  long  slender  pike 
tapering  up  like  a  lance  into  the  air  ;  or  be- 
holds a  long  train  of  mules  slowly  moving 
along  the  waste  like  a  train  of  camels  in  the 
desert  ;  or  a  single  horseman,  armed  with 
blunderbuss  and  stiletto,  and  prowling  over 
the  plain.  Thus  the  country,  the  habits,  the 
very  looks  of  the  people,  have  something  of 
the  Arabian  character.  The  general  insecurity 
of  the  country  is  evinced  in  the  universal  use 
of  weapons.  The  herdsman  in  the  field,  the 
shepherd  in  the  plain,  has  his  musket  and  his 
knife.  The  wealthy  villager  rarely  ventures 
to  the  market-town  without  his  trabuco,  and, 
perhaps,  a  servant  on  foot  with  a  blunderbuss 
on  his  shoulder  ;  and  the  most  petty  journey  is 
undertaken  with  the  preparation  of  a  warlike 
enterprise. 

The  dangers  of  the  road  produce  also  a  mode 
of  travelling  resembling,  on  a  diminutive  scale, 
the  caravans  of  the  East.  The  arrieros^  or  car- 
riers, congregate  in  convoys,  and  set  off  in  large 
and  well-armed  trains  on  appointed  days  ;  while 


additional  travellers  swell  their  number,  and 
contribute  to  their  strength.  In  this  primitive 
way  is  the  commerce  of  the  country  carried  on. 
The  muleteer  is  the  general  medium  of  traffic, 
and  the  legitimate  traverser  of  the  land,  cross- 
ing the  peninsula  from  the  Pyrenees  and  the 
Asturias  to  the  Alpuxarras,  the  Serrania  de 
Ronda,  and  even  to  the  gates  of  Gibraltar. 
He  lives  frugally  and  hardily  :  his  alforjas 
of  coarse  cloth  hold  his  scanty  stock  of  pro- 
visions ;  a  leatheni  bottle,  hanging  at  his 
saddle-bow,  contains  wine  or  water  for  a  sup- 
ply across  barren  mountains  and  thirsty  plains  ; 
a  mule-cloth  spread  upon  the  ground  is  his  bed 
at  night,  and  his  pack-saddle  his  pillow.  His 
low  but  clean-limbed  and  sinewy  form  betokens 
strength ;  his  complexion  is  dark  and  sun- 
burnt ;  his  eye  resolute,  but  quiet  in  its  ex- 
pression, except  when  kindled  by  sudden 
emotion  ;  his  demeanor  is  frank,  manly,  and 
courteous,  and  he  never  passes  you  without 
a  grave  salutation  :  ' '  Dios  guarde  a  usted  !  ' ' 
"  Va  usted  con  Dios,  Caballero ! '" — "God 
guard  you  !  "  "  God  be  with  you,  Cavalier  ? ' ' 
As  these  men  have  often  their  whole  fortune 
at  stake  upon  the  burden  of  their  mules,  they 
have  their  weapons  at  hand,  slung  to  their  sad- 
dles, and  ready  to  be  snatched  out  for  desperate 
defence  ;  but  their  united  numbers  render  them 


6  Cbe  aibambra 

secure  against  petty  bands  of  marauders,  and 
the  solitary  bandolero,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 
mounted  on  his  Andalusian  steed,  hovers  about 
them,  like  a  pirate  about  a  merchant  convoy, 
without  daring  to  assault. 

The  Spanish  muleteer  has  an  inexhaustible 
stock  of  songs  and  ballads,  with  which  to  be- 
guile his  incessant  wayfaring.  The  airs  are 
rude  and  simple,  consisting  of  but  few  inflec- 
tions. These  he  chants  forth  with  a  loud  voice, 
and  long,  drawling  cadence,  seated  sideways  on 
his  mule,  who  seems  to  listen  with  infinite 
gravity,  and  to  keep  time  with  his  paces  to 
the  tune.  The  couplets  thus  chanted  are  often 
old  traditional  romances  about  the  Moors,  or 
some  legend  of  a  saint,  or  some  love-ditty  ;  or, 
what  is  still  more  frequent,  some  ballad  about 
a  bold  contrabandista,  or  hardy  bandolero,  for 
the  smuggler  and  the  robber  are  poetical  heroes 
among  the  common  people  of  Spain.  Often, 
the  song  of  the  muleteer  is  composed  at  the 
instant,  and  relates  to  some  local  scene,  or  some 
incident  of  the  j  ourney .  This  talent  of  singing 
and  improvising  is  frequent  in  Spain,  and  is 
said  to  have  been  inherited  from  the  Moors. 
There  is  something  wildly  pleasing  in  listening 
to  these  ditties  among  the  rude  and  lonely 
scenes  they  illustrate,  accompanied  as  they  are 
by  the  occasional  jingle  of  the  mule-bell. 


tlbe 


It  has  a  most  picturesque  effect  also  to  meet 
a  train  of  muleteers  in  some  mountain  pass. 
First  you  hear  the  bells  of  the  leading  mules, 
breaking  with  their  simple  melody  the  stillness 
of  the  airy  height ;  or,  perhaps,  the  voice  of  the 
muleteer  admonishing  some  tardy  or  wander- 
ing animal,  or  chanting,  at  the  full  stretch  of 
his  lungs,  some  traditionary  ballad.  At  length 
you  see  the  mules  slowly  winding  along  the 
cragged  defile,  sometimes  descending  precipi- 
tous cliffs,  so  as  to  present  themselves  in  full 
relief  against  the  sky,  sometimes  toiling  up 
the  deep  arid  chasms  below  you.  As  they 
approach,  you  descry  their  gay  decorations  of 
worsted  stuffs,  tassels,  and  saddle-cloths,  while, 
as  they  pass  by,  the  ever  ready  trabuco,  slung 
behind  the  packs  and  saddles,  gives  a  hint  of 
the  insecurity  of  the  road. 

The  ancient  kingdom  of  Granada,  into  which 
we  were  about  to  penetrate,  is  one  of  the  most 
mountainous  regions  of  Spain.  Vast  sierras, 
or  chains  of  mountains,  destitute  of  shrub  or 
tree,  and  mottled  with  variegated  marbles 
and  granites,  elevate  their  sunburnt  summits 
against  a  deep-blue  sky  ;  yet  in  their  rugged 
bosoms  lie  ingulfed  verdant  and  fertile  valleys, 
where  the  desert  and  the  garden  strive  for 
mastery,  and  the  very  rock  is,  as  it  were,  com- 
pelled to  yield  the  fig,  the  orange,  and  the 


Hlbambra 


citron,  and  to  blossom  with   the  myrtle  and 
the  rose. 

In  the  wild  passes  of  these  mountains  the 
sight  of  walled  towns  and  villages,  built  like 
eagles'  nests  among  the  cliffs,  and  surrounded 
by  Moorish  battlements,  or  of  ruined  watch- 
towers  perched  on  lofty  peaks,  carries  the 
mind  back  to  the  chivalric  days  of  Christian 
and  Moslem  warfare,  and  to  the  romantic 
struggle  for  the  conquest  of  Granada.  In 
traversing  these  lofty  sierras  the  traveller  is 
often  obliged  to  alight,  and  lead  his  horse 
up  and  down  the  steep  and  jagged  ascents  and 
descents,  resembling  the  broken  steps  of  a 
staircase.  Sometimes  the  road  winds  along 
dizzy  precipices,  without  parapet  to  guard  him 
from  the  gulfs  below,  and  then  will  plunge 
down  steep  and  dark  and  dangerous  declivi- 
ties. Sometimes  it  struggles  through  rugged 
barrancos,  or  ravines,  worn  by  winter  torrents, 
the  obscure  path  of  the  contrabandista  ;  while, 
ever  and  anon,  the  ominous  cross,  the  monu- 
ment of  robbery  and  murder,  erected  on  a 
mound  of  stones  at  some  lonely  part  of  the 
road,  admonishes  the  traveller  that  he  is  among 
the  haunts  of  banditti,  perhaps  at  that  very 
moment  under  the  eye  of  some  lurking  bando- 
lero. Sometimes,  in  winding  through  the  nar- 
row valleys,  he  is  startled  by  a  hoarse  bellowing, 


and  beholds  above  him  on  some  green  fold  of 
the  mountain  a  herd  of  fierce  Andalusian  bulls, 
destined  for  the  combat  of  the  arena.  I  have 
felt,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  an  agreeable  horror 
in  thus  contemplating,  near  at  hand,  these  ter- 
rific animals,  clothed  with  tremendous  strength, 
and  ranging  their  native  pastures  in  untamed 
wildness,  strangers  almost  to  the  face  of  man  : 
they  know  no  one  but  the  solitary  herdsman 
who  attends  upon  them,  and  even  he  at  times 
dares  not  venture  to  approach  them.  The  low 
bellowing  of  these  bulls,  and  their  menacing 
aspect  as  they  look  down  from  their  rocky 
height,  give  additional  wildness  to  the  savage 
scenery. 

I  have  been  betrayed  unconsciously  into  a 
longer  disquisition  than  I  intended  on  the  gen- 
eral features  of  Spanish  travelling  ;  but  there 
is  a  romance  about  all  the  recollections  of  the 
Peninsula  dear  to  the  imagination. 

As  our  proposed  route  to  Granada  lay  through 
mountainous  regions,  where  the  roads  are  little 
better  than  mule-paths,  and  said  to  be  fre- 
quently beset  by  robbers,  we  took  due  travel- 
ling precautions.  Forwarding  the  most  valuable 
part  of  our  luggage  a  day  or  two  in  advance  by 
the  arrieros,  we  retained  merely  clothing  and 
necessaries  for  the  journey  and  money  for  the 
expenses  of  the  road ;  with  a  little  surplus 


Blbambra 


of  hard  dollars  by  way  of  robber  purse,  to 
satisfy  the  gentlemen  of  the  road  should  we  be 
assailed.  Unlucky  is  the  too  wary  traveller 
who,  having  grudged  this  precaution,  falls 
into  their  clutches  empty-handed  ;  they  are 
apt  to  give  him  a  sound  rib-roasting  for  cheat- 
ing them  out  of  their  dues.  '  '  Caballeros  like 
them  cannot  afford  to  scour  the  roads  and  risk 
the  gallows  for  nothing.  '  ' 

A  couple  of  stout  steeds  were  provided  for 
our  own  mounting,  and  a  third  for  our  scanty 
luggage  and  the  conveyance  of  a  sturdy  Bis- 
cay an  lad,  about  twenty  years  of  age,  who  was 
to  be  our  guide,  our  groom,  our  valet,  and  at 
all  times  our  guard.  For  the  latter  office  he 
was  provided  with  a  formidable  trabuco  or  car- 
bine, with  which  he  promised  to  defend  us 
against  rateros  or  solitary  footpads  ;  but  as  to 
powerful  bands,  like  that  of  the  '  '  Sons  of  Ecija,  '  ' 
he  confessed  they  were  quite  beyond  his  prow- 
ess. He  made  much  vainglorious  boast  about 
his  weapon  at  the  outset  of  the  journey  ;  though, 
to  the  discredit  of  his  generalship,  it  was  suf- 
fered to  hang  unloaded  behind  his  saddle. 

According  to  our  stipulations,  the  man  from 
whom  we  hired  the  horses  was  to  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  their  feed  and  stabling  on  the  journey, 
as  well  as  of  the  maintenance  of  our  Biscayan 
squire,  who  of  course  was  provided  with  funds 


Bournes 


for  the  purpose  ;  we  took  care,  however,  to  give 
the  latter  a  private  hint,  that,  though  we  made 
a  close  bargain  with  his  master,  it  was  all  in 
his  favor,  as,  if  he  proved  a  good  man  and  true, 
both  he  and  the  horses  should  live  at  our  cost, 
and  the  money  provided  for  their  maintenance 
remain  in  his  pocket.  This  unexpected  largess, 
with  the  occasional  present  of  a  cigar,  won  his 
heart  completely.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  faithful, 
cheery,  kind-hearted  creature,  as  full  of  saws 
and  proverbs  as  that  miracle  of  squires,  the  re- 
nowned Sancho  himself,  whose  name,  by  the 
by,  we  bestowed  upon  him,  and,  like  a  true 
Spaniard,  though  treated  by  us  with  com- 
panionable familiarity,  he  never  for  a  moment, 
in  his  utmost  hilarity,  overstepped  the  bounds 
of  respectful  decorum. 

Such  were  our  minor  preparations  for  the 
journey,  but  above  all  we  laid  in  an  ample 
stock  of  good  humor,  and  a  genuine  disposition 
to  be  pleased  ;  determining  to  travel  in  true 
contrabandista  style ;  taking  things  as  we 
found  them,  rough  or  smooth,  and  mingling 
with  all  classes  and  conditions  in  a  kind  of  vag- 
abond companionship.  It  is  the  true  way  to 
travel  in  Spain.  With  such  disposition  and 
determination,  what  a  country  is  it  for  a  trav- 
eller, where  the  most  miserable  inn  is  as  full  of 
adventure  as  an  enchanted  castle,  and  every 


£be  Blbambra 

meal  is  in  itself  an  achievement  !  Let  others 
repine  at  the  lack  of  turnpike  roads  and  sump- 
tuous hotels,  and  all  the  elaborate  comforts  of  a 
country  cultivated  and  civilized  into  tameness 
and  commonplace  ;  but  give  me  the  rude  moun- 
tain scramble ;  the  roving,  hap-hazard,  way- 
faring ;  the  half  wild,  yet  frank  and  hospitable 
manners,  which  impart  such  a  true  game-flavor 
to  dear  old  romantic  Spain  ! 

Thus  equipped  and  attended,  we  cantered 
out  of  ' '  Fair  Seville  city  ' '  at  half-past  six  in 
the  morning  of  a  bright  May  day,  in  company 
with  a  lady  and  gentleman  of  our  acquaintance, 
who  rode  a  few  miles  with  us,  in  the  Spanish 
mode  ef  taking  leave.  Our  route  lay  through 
old  Alcala  de  Guadaira  (Alcala  on  the  river 
Aira),  the  benefactress  of  Seville,  that  supplies 
it  with  bread  and  water.  Here  live  the  bakers 
who  furnish  Seville  with  that  delicious  bread 
for  which  it  is  renowned ;  here  are  fabricated 
those  roscas  well  known  by  the  well-merited 
appellation  of  pan  de  Dios  (bread  of  God)  ;  with 
which,  by  the  way,  we  ordered  our  man, 
Sancho,  to  stock  his  alforjas  for  the  journey. 
Well  has  this  beneficent  little  city  been  denomi- 
nated the  ' '  Oven  of  Seville ' '  ;  well  has  it  been 
called  Alcala  de  los  Panaderos  (Alcala  of  the 
Bakers) ,  for  a  great  part  of  its  inhabitants  are 
of  that  handicraft,  and  the  highway  hence  to 


Gbe 


Seville  is  constantly  traversed  by  lines  of  mules 
and  donkeys  laden  with  great  panniers  of 
loaves  and  roscas. 

I  have  said  Alcala  supplies  Seville  with 
water.  Here  are  great  tanks  or  reservoirs,  of 
Roman  and  Moorish  construction,  whence 
water  is  conveyed  to  Seville  by  noble  aque- 
ducts. The  springs  of  Alcala  are  almost  as 
much  vaunted  as  its  ovens ;  and  to  the  light- 
ness, sweetness,  and  purity  of  its  water  is 
attributed  in  some  measure  the  delicacy  of  its 
bread. 

Here  we  halted  for  a  time,  at  the  ruins  of  the 
old  Moorish  castle,  a  favorite  resort  for  picnic 
parties  from  Seville,  where  we  had  passed  many 
a  pleasant  hour.  The  walls  are  of  great  ex- 
tent, pierced  with  loopholes  ;  enclosing  a  huge 
square  tower  or  keep,  with  the  remains  of  mas- 
moras,  or  subterranean  granaries.  The  Gua- 
daira  winds  its  stream  round  the  hill,  at  the 
foot  of  these  ruins,  whimpering  among  reeds, 
rushes,  and  pond-lilies,  and  overhung  with 
rhododendron,  eglantine,  yellow  myrtle,  and  a 
profusion  of  wild  flowers  and  aromatic  shrubs  ; 
while  along  its  banks  are  groves  of  oranges, 
citrons,  and  pomegranates,  among  which  we 
heard  the  early  note  of  the  nightingale. 

A  picturesque  bridge  was  thrown  across  the 
little  river,  at  one  end  of  which  was  the  ancient 


Slbambra 


Moorish  mill  of  the  castle,  defended  by  a  tower 
of  yellow  stone  ;  a  fisherman's  net  hung  against 
the  wall  to  dry,  and  hard  by  in  the  river  was 
his  boat  ;  a  group  of  peasant  women  in  bright- 
colored  dresses,  crossing  the  arched  bridge, 
were  reflected  in  the  placid  stream.  Altogether 
it  was  an  admirable  scene  for  a  landscape- 
painter. 

The  old  Moorish  mills,  so  often  found  on 
secluded  streams,  are  characteristic  objects  in 
Spanish  landscape,  and  suggestive  of  the  peril- 
ous times  of  old.  They  are  of  stone,  and  often 
in  the  form  of  towers,  with  loopholes  and  bat- 
tlements, capable  of  defence  in  those  warlike 
days  when  the  country  on  both  sides  of  the 
border  was  subject  to  sudden  inroad  and  hasty 
ravage,  and  when  men  had  to  labor  with  their 
weapons  at  hand,  and  some  place  of  temporary 
refuge. 

Our  next  halting-place  was  at  Gandul,  where 
were  the  remains  of  another  Moorish  castle, 
with  its  ruined  tower,  a  nestling-place  for 
storks,  and  commanding  a  view  over  a  vast 
campina  or  fertile  plain,  with  the  mountains  of 
Ronda  in  the  distance.  These  castles  were 
strongholds  to  protect  the  plains  from  the  talas 
or  forays  to  which  they  were  subject,  when  the 
fields  of  corn  would  be  laid  waste,  the  flocks 
and  herds  swept  from  the  vast  pastures,  and, 


ITbc  Bournes 


together  with  captive  peasantry,  hurried  off  in 
long  cavalgadas  across  the  borders. 

At  Gandul  we  found  a  tolerable  posada  ;  the 
good  folks  could  not  tell  us  what  time  of  day  it 
was,  the  clock  only  struck  once  in  the  day,  two 
hours  after  noon  ;  until  that  time  it  was  guess- 
work. We  guessed  it  was  full  time  to  eat ;  so, 
alighting,  we  ordered  a  repast.  While  that 
was  in  preparation,  we  visited  the  palace,  once 
the  residence  of  the  Marquis  of  Gandul.  All 
was  gone  to  decay  ;  there  were  but  two  or 
three  rooms  habitable,  and  very  poorly  fur- 
nished. Yet  here  were  the  remains  of  gran- 
deur :  a  terrace,  where  fair  dames  and  gentle 
cavaliers  may  once  have  walked ;  a  fish  pond 
and  ruined  garden,  with  grape-vines  and  date- 
bearing  palm  trees.  Here  we  were  joined  by  a 
fat  curate,  who  gathered  a  bouquet  of  roses, 
and  presented  it,  very  gallantly,  to  the  lady 
who  accompanied  us. 

Below  the  palace  was  the  mill,  with  orange 
trees  and  aloes  in  front,  and  a  pretty  stream  of 
pure  water.  We  took  a  seat  in  the  shade,  and 
the  millers,  all  leaving  their  work,  sat  down 
and  smoked  with  us,  for  the  Andalusians  are 
always  ready  for  a  gossip.  They  were  waiting 
for  the  regular  visit  of  the  barber,  who  came 
once  a  week  to  put  all  their  chins  in  order. 
He  arrived  shortly  afterwards  :  a  lad  of  seven- 


16 


Slbambra 


teen,  mounted  on  a  donkey,  eager  to  display 
his  new  alforjas,  or  saddle-bags,  just  bought  at 
a  fair  ;  price  one  dollar,  to  be  paid  on  St.  John's 
day  (in  June),  by  which  time  he  trusted  to 
have  mown  beards  enough  to  put  him  in 
funds. 

By  the  time  the  laconic  clock  of  the  castle 
had  struck  two  we  had  finished  our  dinner. 
So,  taking  leave  of  our  Seville  friends,  and 
leaving  the  millers  still  under  the  hands  of  the 
barber,  we  set  off  on  our  ride  across  the  cam- 
pina.  It  was  one  of  those  vast  plains,  common 
in  Spain,  where  for  miles  and  miles  there  is 
neither  house  nor  tree.  Unlucky  the  traveller 
who  has  to  traverse  it,  exposed  as  we  were  to 
heavy  and  repeated  showers  of  rain.  There  is 
no  escape  nor  shelter.  Our  only  protection 
was  our  Spanish  cloaks,  which  nearly  covered 
man  and  horse,  but  grew  heavier  every  mile. 
By  the  time  we  had  lived  through  one  shower 
we  would  see  another  slowly  but  inevitably  ap- 
proaching ;  fortunately,  in  the  interval  there 
would  be  an  outbreak  of  bright,  warm,  Anda- 
lusian  sunshine,  which  would  make  our  cloaks 
send  up  wreaths  of  steam,  but  which  partially 
dried  them  before  the  next  drenching. 

Shortly  after  sunset  we  arrived  at  Arahal,  a 
little  town  among  the  hills.  We  found  it  in  a 
bustle  with  a  party  of  miguelets,  who  were 


Journey 


patrolling  the  country  to  ferret  out  robbers. 
The  appearance  of  foreigners  like  ourselves  was 
an  unusual  circumstance  in  an  interior  country 
town,  and  little  Spanish  towns  of  the  kind  are 
easily  put  in  a  state  of  gossip  and  wonderment 
by  such  an  occurrence.  Mine  host,  with  two 
or  three  old  wiseacre  comrades  in  brown  cloaks, 
studied  our  passports  in  a  corner  of  the  posada, 
while  an  Alguazil  took  notes  by  the  dim  light 
of  a  lamp.  The  passports  were  in  foreign  lan- 
guages and  perplexed  them,  but  our  Squire 
Sancho  assisted  them  in  their  studies,  and 
magnified  our  importance  with  the  grandilo- 
quence of  a  Spaniard.  In  the  meantime  the 
magnificent  distribution  of  a  few  cigars  had 
won  the  hearts  of  all  around  us ;  in  a  little 
while  the  whole  community  seemed  put  in 
agitation  to  make  us  welcome.  The  corregidor 
himself  waited  upon  us,  and  a  great  rush-bot- 
tomed arm  chair  was  ostentatiously  bolstered 
into  our  room  by  our  landlady,  for  the  accom- 
modation of  that  important  personage.  The 
commander  of  the  patrol  took  supper  with  us  : 
a  lively,  talking,  laughing  Andaluz,  who  had 
made  a  campaign  in  South  America,  and  re- 
counted his  exploits  in  love  and  war  with  much 
pomp  of  phrase,  vehemence  of  gesticulation, 
and  mysterious  rolling  of  the  eye.  He  told  us 
that  he  had  a  list  of  all  the  robbers  in  the  coun- 


is  Cbc  Blbambra 

try,  and  meant  to  ferret  out  every  mother's  son 
of  them  ;  he  offered  us  at  the  same  time  some 
of  his  soldiers  as  an  escort.  ' '  One  is  enough 
to  protect  you,  senors  ;  the  robbers  know  me, 
and  know  my  men  ;  the  sight  of  one  is  enough 
to  spread  terror  through  a  whole  sierra. ' '  We 
thanked  him  for  his  offer,  but  assured  him,  in 
his  own  strain,  that  with  the  protection  of  our 
redoubtable  Squire  Sancho  we  were  not  afraid 
of  all  the  ladrones  of  Andalusia. 

While  we  were  supping  with  our  drawcansir 
friend,  we  heard  the  notes  of  a  guitar  and  the 
click  of  castanets,  and  presently  a  chorus  of 
voices  singing  a  popular  air.  In  fact,  mine 
host  had  gathered  together  the  amateur  singers 
and  musicians,  and  the  rustic  belles  of  the 
neighborhood,  and,  on  going  forth,  the  court- 
yard or  patio  of  the  inn  presented  a  scene 
of  true  Spanish  festivity.  We  took  our  seats 
with  mine  host  and  hostess  and  the  commander 
of  the  patrol,  under  an  archway  opening  into 
the  court ;  the  guitar  passed  from  hand  to 
hand,  but  a  jovial  shoemaker  was  the  Orpheus 
of  the  place.  He  was  a  pleasant-looking  fel- 
low, with  huge  black  whiskers  ;  his  sleeves 
were  rolled  up  to  his  elbows.  He  touched  the 
guitar  with  masterly  skill,  and  sang  a  little 
amorous  ditty  with  an  expressive  leer  at  the 
women,  with  whom  he  was  evidently  a  favor- 


Gypsies  in  the  Albaicin. 


V 


i 


Gbe  Journeg 


ite.  He  afterwards  danced  a  fandango  with  a 
buxom  Andalusian  damsel,  to  the  great  delight 
of  the  spectators.  But  none  of  the  females 
present  could  compare  with  mine  host's  pretty 
daughter,  Pepita,  who  had  slipped  away  and 
made  her  toilette  for  the  occasion,  and  had 
covered  her  head  with  roses ;  and  who  dis- 
tinguished herself  in  a  bolero  with  a  handsome 
young  dragoon.  We  ordered  our  host  to  let 
wine  and  refreshment  circulate  freely  among 
the  company,  yet,  though  there  was  a  motley 
assembly  of  soldiers,  muleteers,  and  villagers, 
no  one  exceeded  the  bounds  of  sober  enjoy- 
ment. The  scene  was  a  study  for  a  painter — 
the  picturesque  group  of  dancers,  the  troopers 
in  their  half-military  dresses,  the  peasantry 
wrapped  in  their  brown  cloaks  ;  nor  must  I 
omit  to  mention  the  old  meagre  Alguazil,  in  a 
short  black  cloak,  who  took  110  notice  of  any- 
thing going  on,  but  sat  in  a  corner  diligently 
writing  by  the  dim  light  of  a  huge  copper 
lamp,  that  might  have  figured  in  the  days 
of  Don  Quixote. 

The  following  morning  was  bright  and  balmy, 
as  a  May  morning  ought  to  be,  according  to 
the  poets.  Leaving  Arahal  at  seven  o'clock, 
with  all  the  posada  at  the  door  to  cheer  us  off, 
we  pursued  our  way  through  a  fertile  country, 
covered  with  grain  and  beautifully  verdant; 


Slbambra 


I 


but  which  in  summer,  when  the  harvest  is 
over  and  the  fields  parched  and  brown,  must 
be  monotonous  and  lonely  ;  for,  as  in  our  ride 
of  yesterday,  there  were  neither  houses  nor 
people  to  be  seen.  The  latter  all  congregate 
in  villages  and  strongholds  among  the  hills,  as 
if  these  fertile  plains  were  still  subject  to  the 
ravages  of  the  Moor. 

At  noon  we  came  to  where  there  was  a  group 
of  trees,  beside  a  brook  in  a  rich  meadow. 
Here  we  alighted  to  make  our  mid-day  meal. 
It  was  really  a  luxurious  spot,  among  wild 
flowers  and  aromatic  herbs,  with  birds  singing 
around  us.  Knowing  the  scanty  larders  of 
Spanish  inns  and  the  houseless  tracts  we  might 
have  to  traverse,  we  had  taken  care  to  have  the 
alforjas  of  our  squire  well  stocked  with  cold 
provisions,  and  his  bota,  or  leathern  bottle, 
which  might  hold  a  gallon,  filled  to  the  neck 
with  choice  Valdepefias  wine.*  As  we  de- 

*  It  may  be  as  well  to  note  here  that  the  alforjas  are 
square  pockets  at  each  end  of  a  long  cloth  about  a  foot 
and  a  half  wide,  formed  by  turning  up  its  extremities. 
The  cloth  is  then  thrown  over  the  saddle,  and  the 
pockets  hang  on  each  side  like  saddle-bags.  It  is  an 
Arab  invention.  The  bota  is  a  leathern  bag  or  bottle, 
of  portly  dimensions,  with  a  narrow  neck.  It  is  also 
Oriental.  Hence  the  scriptural  caution  which  per- 
plexed me  in  my  boyhood,  not  to  put  new  wine  into 
old  bottles. 


pended  more  upon  these  for  our  well-being 
than  even  his  trabuco,  we  exhorted  him  to  be 
more  attentive  in  keeping  them  well  charged  ; 
and  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  his 
namesake,  the  trencher-loving  Sancho  Panza, 
was  never  a  more  provident  purveyor.  Though 
the  alforjas  and  the  bota  were  frequently  and 
vigorously  assailed  throughout  the  journey, 
they  had  a  wonderful  power  of  repletion,  our 
vigilant  squire  sacking  everything  that  re- 
mained from  our  repasts  at  the  inns  to  supply 
these  junketings  by  the  roadside,  which  were 
his  delight. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  spread  quite  a 
sumptuous  variety  of  remnants  on  the  green- 
sward before  us,  graced  with  an  excellent  ham 
brought  from  Seville  ;  then,  taking  his  seat  at 
little  distance,  he  solaced  himself  with  what 
remained  in  the  alforjas.  A  visit  or  two  to  the 
bota  made  him  as  merry  and  chirruping  as  a 
grasshopper  filled  with  dew.  On  my  comparing 
his  contents  of  the  alforjas  to  Sancho' s  skim- 
ming of  the  flesh-pots  at  the  wedding  of  Cam- 
macho,  I  found  he  was  well  versed  in  the 
history  of  Don  Quixote,  but,  like  many  of  the 
common  people  of  Spain,  firmly  believed  it  to 
be  a  true  history. 

' '  All  that  happened  a  long  time  ago,  senor, ' ' 
said  he,  with  an  inquiring  look. 


Slbambra 


"A  very  long  time,"  I  replied. 

"I  dare  say  more  than  a  thousand  years," 
—  still  looking  dubiously. 

"  I  dare  say  not  less." 

The  squire  was  satisfied.  Nothing  pleased 
the  simple-hearted  varlet  more  than  my  com- 
paring him  to  the  renowned  Sancho  for  devo- 
tion to  the  trencher  ;  and  he  called  himself  by 
no  other  name  throughout  the  journey. 

Our  repast  being  finished,  we  spread  our 
cloaks  on  the  greensward  under  the  tree,  and 
took  a  luxurious  siesta,  in  the  Spanish  fashion. 
The  clouding  up  of  the  weather,  however, 
warned  us  to  depart,  and  a  harsh  wind  sprang 
up  from  the  southeast.  Towards  five  o'clock 
we  arrived  at  Osuna,  a  town  of  fifteen  thousand 
inhabitants,  situated  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  with 
a  church  and  a  ruined  castle.  The  posada  was 
outside  of  the  walls  ;  it  had  a  cheerless  look. 
The  evening  being  cold,  the  inhabitants  were 
crowded  round  a  brasero  in  a  chimney-corner  ; 
and  the  hostess  was  a  dry  old  woman,  who 
looked  like  a  mummy.  Every  one  eyed  us 
askance  as  we  entered,  as  Spaniards  are  apt 
to  regard  strangers  ;  a  cheery,  respectful  salu- 
tation on  our  part,  caballeroing  them  and 
touching  our  sombreros,  set  Spanish  pride  at 
ease  ;  and  when  we  took  our  seat  among  them, 
lit  our  cigars,  and  passed  the  cigar-box  round 


among  them,  our  victory  was  complete.  I 
have  never  known  a  Spaniard,  whatever  his 
rank  or  condition,  who  would  suffer  himself  to 
be  outdone  in  courtesy ;  and  to  the  common 
Spaniard  the  present  of  a  cigar  (fiuro)  is  irre- 
sistible. Care,  however,  must  be  taken  never 
to  offer  him  a  present  with  an  air  of  superiority 
and  condescension  ;  he  is  too  much  of  a  cabal- 
lero  to  receive  favors  at  the  cost  of  his  dignity. 
Leaving  Osuna  at  an  early  hour  the  next 
morning,  we  entered  the  sierra  or  range  of 
mountains.  The  road  wound  through  pictu- 
resque scenery,  but  lonely  ;  and  a  cross  here 
and  there  by  the  roadside,  the  sign  of  a  murder, 
showed  that  we  were  now  coming  among  the 
"robber  haunts."  This  wild  and  intricate 
country,  with  its  silent  plains  and  valleys 
intersected  by  mountains,  has  ever  been  famous 
for  banditti.  It  was  here  that  Omar  Ibn  Has- 
san, a  robber-chief  among  the  Moslems,  held 
ruthless  sway  in  the  ninth  century,  disputing 
dominion  even  with  the  caliphs  of  Cordova. 
This,  too,  was  a  part  of  the  regions  so  often  rav- 
aged during  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella 
by  Ali  Atar,  the  old  Moorish  alcayde  of  Loxa, 
father-in-law  of  Boabdil,  so  that  it  was  called 
Ali  Atar's  garden,  and  here  "Jose  Maria," 
famous  in  Spanish  brigand  story,  had  his 
favorite  lurking-places. 


Cbe  Blbambra 

In  the  course  of  the  day  we  passed  through 
Fuente  la  Piedra,  near  a  little  salt  lake  of  the 
same  name,  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  reflect- 
ing like  a  mirror  the  distant  mountains.  We 
now  came  in  sight  of  Antiquera,  that  old  city 
of  warlike  reputation,  lying  in  the  lap  of  the 
great  sierra  which  runs  through  Andalusia. 
A  noble  vega  spread  out  before  it,  a  picture  of 
mild  fertility  set  in  a  frame  of  rocky  mountains. 
Crossing  a  gentle  river,  we  approached  the  city 
between  hedges  and  gardens,  in  which  night- 
ingales were  pouring  forth  their  evening  song. 
About  nightfall  we  arrived  at  the  gates.  Every- 
thing in  this  venerable  city  has  a  decidedly 
Spanish  stamp.  It  lies  too  much  out  of  the 
frequented  track  of  foreign  travel  to  have  its 
old  usages  trampled  out.  Here  I  observed  old 
men  still  wearing  the  montero,  or  ancient  hunt- 
ing-cap, once  common  throughout  Spain  ;  while 
the  young  men  wore  the  little  round-crowned 
hat,  with  brim  turned  up  all  round,  like  a  cup 
turned  down  in  its  saucer  ;  while  the  brim  was 
set  off  with  little  black  tufts  like  cockades. 
The  women,  too,  were  all  in  mantillas  and 
basquinas.  The  fashions  of  Paris  had  not 
reached  Antiquera. 

Pursuing  our  course  through  a  spacious 
street,  we  put  up  at  the  posada  of  San  Fer- 
nando. As  Antiquera,  though  a  considerable 


city,  is,  as  I  observed,  somewhat  out  of  the 
track  of  travel,  I  had  anticipated  bad  quarters 
and  poor  fare  at  the  inn.  I  was  agreeably 
disappointed,  therefore,  by  a  supper  table  am- 
ply supplied,  and  what  were  still  more  accepta- 
ble, good  clean  rooms  and  comfortable  beds.  Our 
man  Sancho  felt  himself  as  well  off  as  his  name- 
sake when  he  had  the  run  of  the  duke's  kitchen, 
and  let  me  know,  as  I  retired  for  the  night,  that 
it  had  been  a  proud  time  for  the  alforjas. 

Early  in  the  morning  (May  4th)  I  strolled  to 
the  ruins  of  the  old  Moorish  castle,  which  itself 
had  been  reared  on  the  ruins  of  a  Roman  for- 
tress. Here,  taking  my  seat  on  the  remains  of 
a  crumbling  tower,  I  enjoyed  a  grand  and 
varied  landscape,  beautiful  in  itself,  and  full 
of  storied  and  romantic  association  ;  for  I  was 
now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  country  famous 
for  the  chivalrous  contests  between  Moor  and 
Christian.  Below  me,  in  its  lap  of  hills,  lay 
the  old  warrior  city  so  often  mentioned  in 
chronicle  and  ballad.  Out  of  yon  gate  and 
down  yon  hill  paraded  the  band  of  Spanish 
cavaliers,  of  highest  rank  and  bravest  bearing, 
to  make  that  foray  during  the  war  and  con- 
quest of  Granada,  which  ended  in  the  lamenta- 
ble massacre  among  the  mountains  of  Malaga, 
and  laid  all  Andalusia  in  mourning.  Beyond 
spread  out  the  vega,  covered  with  gardens  and 


{Ebe  Blbambra 

orchards  and  fields  of  grain  and  enamelled 
meadows,  inferior  only  to  the  famous  vega 
of  Granada.  To  the  right  the  Rock  of  the 
Ivovers  stretched  like  a  cragged  promontory 
into  the  plain,  whence  the  daughter  of  the 
Moorish  alcayde  and  her  lover,  when  closely 
pursued,  threw  themselves  in  despair. 

The  matin  peal  from  church  and  convent 
below  me  rang  sweetly  in  the  morning  air  as  I 
descended.  The  market-place  was  beginning 
to  throng  with  the  populace,  who  traffic  in  the 
abundant  produce  of  the  vega  ;  for  this  is  the 
mart  of  an  agricultural  region.  In  the  market- 
place were  abundance  of  freshly-plucked  roses 
for  sale  ;  for  not  a  dame  or  damsel  of  Andalusia 
thinks  her  gala  dress  complete  without  a  rose 
shining  like  a  gem  among  her  raven  tresses. 

On  returning  to  the  inn  I  found  our  man 
Sancho  in  high  gossip  with  the  landlord  and 
two  or  three  of  his  hangers-on.  He  had  just 
been  telling  some  marvellous  story  about 
Seville,  which  mine  host  seemed  piqued  to 
match  with  one  equally  marvellous  about 
Antiquera.  There  was  once  a  fountain,  he 
said,  in  one  of  the  public  squares  called  II 
Fuente  del  Toro  (the  Fountain  of  the  Bull),  be- 
cause the  water  gushed  from  the  mouth  of  a 
bull's  head,  carved  of  stone.  Underneath  the 
head  was  inscribed  : 


Journeg 


En  frente  del  toro 
Se  hallen  tesoro. 

(In  front  of  the  bull  there  is  treasure.)  Many 
digged  in  front  of  the  fountain,  but  lost  their 
labor  and  found  no  money.  At  last  one  know- 
ing fellow  construed  the  motto  a  different  way. 
It  is  in  the  forehead  (frente)  of  the  bull  that 
the  treasure  is  to  be  found,  said  he  to  himself, 
and  I  am  the  man  to  find  it.  Accordingly  he 
came,  late  at  night,  with  a  mallet,  and  knocked 
the  head  to  pieces  ;  and  what  do  you  think  he 
found  ? 

"Plenty  of  gold  and  diamonds!"  cried 
Sancho,  eagerly. 

"He  found  nothing,"  rejoined  mine  host, 
dryly,  "  and  he  ruined  the  fountain." 

Here  a  great  laugh  was  set  up  by  the  land- 
lord's hangers-on  ;  who  considered  Sancho 
completely  taken  in  by  what  I  presume  was 
one  of  mine  host's  standing  jokes. 

Leaving  Antiquera  at  eight  o'clock,  we  had 
a  delightful  ride  along  the  little  river,  and  by 
gardens  and  orchards  fragrant  with  the  odors 
of  spring  and  vocal  with  the  nightingale.  Our 
road  passed  round  the  Rock  of  the  Trovers  (HI 
Penon  de  los  Knamorados),  which  rose  in  a 
precipice  above  us.  In  the  course  of  the  morn- 
ing we  passed  through  Archidona,  situated  in 
the  breast  of  a  high  hill,  with  a  three-pointed 


w 


Cbe  2llbambra 

mountain  towering  above  it,  and  the  ruins  of  a 
Moorish  fortress.  It  was  a  great  toil  to  ascend 
a  steep  stony  street  leading  up  into  the  city, 
although  it  bore  the  encouraging  name  of  Calle 
Real  del  Llano  (the  Royal  Street  of  the  Plain), 
but  it  was  still  a  greater  toil  to  descend  from 
this  mountain  city  011  the  other  side. 

At  noon  we  halted  in  sight  of  Archidona,  in 
a  pleasant  little  meadow  among  hills  covered 
with  olive  trees.  Our  cloaks  were  spread  on 
the  grass,  under  an  elm  by  the  side  of  a  bub- 
bling rivulet ;  our  horses  were  tethered  where 
they  might  crop  the  herbage,  and  Sancho  was 
told  to  produce  his  alforjas.  He  had  been  un- 
usually silent  this  morning  ever  since  the  laugh 
raised  at  his  expense,  but  now  his  countenance 
brightened,  and  he  produced  his  alforjas  with 
an  air  of  triumph.  They  contained  the  contri- 
butions of  four  days'  journeying,  but  had  been 
signally  enriched  by  the  foraging  of  the  previ- 
ous evening  in  the  plenteous  inn  at  Antiquera; 
and  this  seemed  to  furnish  him  with  a  set-off  to 
the  banter  of  mine  host. 

Bn  frente  del  toro 
Se  hallen  tesoro 

would  he  exclaim,  with  a  chuckling  laugh,  as 
he  drew  forth  the  heterogeneous  contents  one 
by  one,  in  a  series  which  seemed  to  have  no 


3-ourneg 


end.  First  came  forth  a  shoulder  of  roasted 
kid,  very  little  the  worse  for  wear  ;  then  an 
entire  partridge  ;  then  a  great  morsel  of  salted 
codfish  wrapped  in  paper  ;  then  the  residue  of 
a  ham  ;  then  the  half  of  a  pullet,  together  with 
several  rolls  of  bread,  and  a  rabble  rout  of 
oranges,  figs,  raisins,  and  walnuts.  His  bota 
also  had  been  recruited  with  some  excellent 
wine  of  Malaga.  At  every  fresh  apparition 
from  his  larder,  he  would  enjoy  our  ludicrous 
surprise,  throwing  himself  back  on  the  grass, 
shouting  with  laughter,  and  exclaiming, 
"  Frente  del  toro !  f rente  del  toro !  Ah, 
senors,  they  thought  Sancho  a  simpleton  at 
Antiquera  ;  but  Sancho  knew  where  to  find  the 
tesoro. ' ' 

While  we  were  diverting  ourselves  with  his 
simple  drollery,  a  solitary  beggar  approached, 
who  had  almost  the  look  of  a  pilgrim.  He  had 
a  venerable  gray  beard,  and  was  evidently  very 
old,  supporting  himself  on  a  staff,  yet  age  had 
not  bowed  him  down  ;  he  was  tall  and  erect, 
and  had  the  wreck  of  a  fine  form.  He  wore  a 
round  Andalusian  hat,  a  sheep-skin  jacket,  and 
leathern  breeches,  gaiters,  and  sandals.  His 
dress,  though  old  and  patched,  was  decent,  his 
demeanor  manly,  and  he  addressed  us  with  the 
grave  courtesy  that  is  to  be  remarked  in  the 
lowest  Spaniard.  We  were  in  a  favorable 


Slbambra 


mood  for  such  a  visitor ;  and  in  a  freak  of 
capricious  charity  gave  him  some  silver,  a  loaf 
of  fine  wheaten  bread,  and  a  goblet  of  our 
choice  wine  of  Malaga.  He  received  them 
thankfully,  but  without  any  grovelling  tribute 
of  gratitude.  Tasting  the  wine,  he  held  it  up 
to  the  light,  with  a  slight  beam  of  surprise  in 
his  eye  ;  then  quaffing  it  off  at  a  draught,  ' '  It 
is  many  years,"  said  he,  "  since  I  have  tasted 
such  wine.  It  is  a  cordial  to  an  old  man's 
heart. ' '  Then,  looking  at  the  beautiful  wheaten 
loaf,  "  bendito  sea  tal  pan  /"  "  blessed  be  such 
bread  ! "  So  saying,  he  put  it  in  his  wallet. 
We  urged  him  to  eat  it  on  the  spot.  "No, 
senors,"  replied  he,  "  the  wine  I  had  either  to 
drink  or  leave  ;  but  the  bread  I  may  take 
home  to  share  with  my  family. ' ' 

Our  man  Sancho  sought  our  eye,  and  read- 
ing permission  there,  gave  the  old  man  some 
of  the  ample  fragments  of  our  repast,  on  condi- 
tion, however,  that  he  should  sit  down  and 
make  a  meal. 

He  accordingly  took  his  seat  at  some  little 
distance  from  us,  and  began  to  eat  slowly,  and 
with  a  sobriety  and  decorum  that  would  have 
become  a  hidalgo.  There  was  altogether  a 
measured  manner  and  a  quiet  self-possession 
about  the  old  man,  that  made  me  think  that  he 
had  seen  better  days :  his  language,  too, 


though  simple,  had  occasionally  something 
picturesque  and  almost  poetical  in  the  phrase- 
ology. I  set  him  down  for  some  broken-down 
cavalier.  I  was  mistaken  ;  it  was  nothing  but 
the  innate  courtesy  of  a  Spaniard,  and  the  po- 
etical turn  of  thought  and  language  often  to  be 
found  in  the  lowest  classes  of  this  clear-witted 
people.  For  fifty  years,  he  told  us,  he  had 
been  a  shepherd,  but  now  he  was  out  of  employ 
and  destitute.  "  When  I  was  a  young  man," 
said  he,  "  nothing  could  harm  or  trouble  me  ; 
I  was  always  well,  always  gay  ;  but  now  I  am 
seventy-nine  years  of  age,  and  a  beggar,  and 
my  heart  begins  to  fail  me. ' ' 

Still  he  was  not  a  regular  mendicant :  it  was 
not  until  recently  that  want  had  driven  him  to 
this  degradation ;  and  he  gave  a  touching 
picture  of  the  struggle  between  hunger  and 
pride,  when  abject  destitution  first  came  upon 
him.  He  was  returning  from  Malaga  without 
money  ;  he  had  not  tasted  food  for  some  time, 
and  was  crossing  one  of  the  great  plains  of 
Spain,  where  there  were  but  few  habitations. 
When  almost  dead  with  hunger,  he  applied  at 
the  door  of  a  venta  or  country  inn.  ' '  Perdon 
ustedpor  Dios  hermano  !  ' '  (Excuse  us,  brother, 
for  God's  sake  !)  was  the  reply — the  usual 
mode  in  Spain  of  refusing  a  beggar.  ' '  I  turned 
away,"  said  he,  "with  shame  greater  than  my 


{Tbe  Blbambra 


hunger,  for  my  heart  was  yet  too  proud.  I 
came  to  a  river  with  high  banks,  and  deep, 
rapid  current,  and  felt  tempted  to  throw  myself 
in :  '  What  should  such  an  old,  worthless, 
wretched  man  as  I  live  for  ?  '  But  when  I  was 
on  the  brink  of  the  current,  I  thought  on  the 
blessed  Virgin,  and  turned  away.  I  travelled 
on  until  I  saw  a  country-seat  at  a  little  distance 
from  the  road,  and  entered  the  outer  gate  of  the 
courtyard.  The  door  was  shut,  but  there 
were  two  young  senoras  at  a  window.  I  ap- 
proached and  begged  ; — '  Perdon  usted por  Dios 
hermano  !  ' — and  the  window  closed.  I  crept 
out  of  the  courtyard,  but  hunger  overcame  me, 
and  my  heart  gave  way  :  I  thought  my  hour  at 
hand,  so  I  laid  myself  down  at  the  gate,  com- 
mended myself  to  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  covered 
my  head  to  die.  In  a  little  while  afterwards 
the  master  of  the  house  came  home  :  seeing  me 
lying  at  his  gate,  he  uncovered  my  head,  had 
pity  on  my  gray  hairs,  took  me  into  his  house, 
and  gave  me  food.  So,  senors,  you  see  that 
one  should  always  put  confidence  in  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Virgin. ' ' 

The  old  man  was  on  his  way  to  his  native 
place,  Archidona,  which  was  in  full  view  on 
its  steep  and  rugged  mountain.  He  pointed  to 
the  ruins  of  its  castle.  ' '  That  castle, ' '  he  said, 
"  was  inhabited  by  a  Moorish  king  at  the  time 


Ebe  Journeg 

of  the  wars  of  Granada.  Queen  Isabella  in- 
vaded it  with  a  great  arm}-  ;  but  the  king 
looked  down  from  his  castle  among  the  clouds, 
and  laughed  her  to  scorn  !  Upon  this  the  Vir- 
gin appeared  to  the  queen,  and  guided  her  and 
her  army  up  a  mysterious  path  in  the  moun- 
tains, which  had  never  before  been  known, 
When  the  Moor  saw  her  coming  he  was  aston- 
ished, and  springing  with  his  horse  from  a 
precipice,  was  dashed  to  pieces  !  .The  marks 
of  his  horse's  hoofs,"  said  the  old  man,  "  are 
to  be  seen  in  the  margin  of  the  rock  to  this  day. 
And  see,  sefiors,  yonder  is  the  road  by  which 
the  queen  and  her  army  mounted  :  you  see  it 
like  a  ribbon  up  the  mountain's  side  ;  but  the 
miracle  is,  that,  though  it  can  be  seen  at  a  dis- 
tance, when  3rou  come  near  it  disappears  ! ' ' 

The  ideal  road  to  which  he  pointed  was 
undoubtedly  a  sand}'  ravine  of  the  mountain, 
which  looked  narrow  and  defined  at  a  distance, 
but  became  broad  and  indistinct  on  an  approach. 

As  the  old  man's  heart  warmed  with  wine 
and  wassail,  he  went  on  to  tell  us  a  story  of  the 
buried  treasure  left  under  the  castle  by  the 
Moorish  king.  His  own  house  was  next  to 
the  foundations  of  the  castle.  The  curate  and 
notary  dreamed  three  times  of  the  treasure,  and 
went  to  work  at  the  place  pointed  out  in  their 
dreams.  His  own  son-in-law  heard  the  sound 


34 


Blbambra 


of  their  pickaxes  and  spades  at  night.  What 
they  found,  nobody  knows  ;  they  became  sud- 
denly rich,  but  kept  their  own  secret.  Thus 
the  old  man  had  once  been  next  door  to  fortune, 
but  was  doomed  never  to  get  under  the  same 
roof. 

I  have  remarked  that  the  stories  of  treasure 
buried  by  the  Moors,  so  popular  throughout 
Spain,  are  most  current  among  the  poorest 
people.  Kind  nature  consoles  with  shadows 
for  the  lack  of  substantials.  The  thirsty  man 
dreams  of  fountains  and  running  streams  ;  the 
hungry  man  of  banquets  ;  and  the  poor  man 
of  heaps  of  hidden  gold — nothing  certainly  is 
more  opulent  than  the  imagination  of  a  beggar. 

Our  afternoon's  ride  took  us  through  a  steep 
and  rugged  defile  of  the  mountains,  called 
Puerte  del  Rey  (the  Pass  of  the  King)  ;  being 
one  of  the  great  passes  into  the  territories  of 
Granada,  and  the  one  by  which  King  Ferdi- 
nand conducted  his  army.  Towards  sunset 
the  road,  winding  round  a  hill,  brought  us  in 
sight  of  the  famous  little  frontier  city  of  Loxa, 
which  repulsed  Ferdinand  from  its  walls.  Its 
Arabic  name  implies  guardian,  and  such  it 
was  to  the  vega  of  Granada,  being  one  of  its 
advanced  guards.  It  was  the  stronghold  of 
that  fiery  veteran,  old  Ali  Atar,  father-in-law 
of  Boabdil  ;  and  here  it  was  that  the  latter 


Cbe  Journeg 


35 


collected  his  troops,  and  sallied  forth  on  that 
disastrous  foray  which  ended  in  the  death  of 
the  old  alcayde  and  his  own  captivity.  From 
its  commanding  position  at  the  gate,  as  it  were, 
of  this  mountain-pass,  I/)xa  has  not  unaptly 
been  termed  the  key  of  Granada.  It  is  wildly 
picturesque,  built  along  the  face  of  an  arid 
mountain.  The  ruins  of  a  Moorish  alcazar  or 
citadel  crown  a  rocky  mound  which  rises  out 
of  the  centre  of  the  town.  The  river  Xenil 
washes  its  base,  winding  among  rocks,  and 
groves,  and  gardens,  and  meadows,  and  crossed 
by  a  Moorish  bridge.  Above  the  city  all  is 
savage  and  sterile,  below  is  the  richest  vegeta- 
tion and  the  freshest  verdure.  A  similar  con- 
trast is  presented  by  the  river :  above  the 
bridge  it  is  placid  and  grassy,  reflecting  groves 
and  gardens ;  below,  it  is  rapid,  noisy,  and 
tumultuous.  The  Sierra  Nevada,  the  royal 
mountains  of  Granada,  crowned  with  perpetual 
snow,  form  the  distant  boundary  to  this  varied 
landscape,  one  of  the  most  characteristic  of 
romantic  Spain. 

Alighting  at  the  entrance  of  the  city,  we 
gave  our  horses  to  Sancho  to  lead  them  to 
the  inn,  while  we  strolled  about  to  enjoy  the 
singular  beauty  of  the  environs.  As  we  crossed 
the  bridge  to  a  fine  alameda,  or  public  walk, 
the  bells  tolled  the  hour  of  orison.  At  the 


Blbambra 


sound  the  wayfarers,  whether  on  business  or 
pleasure,  paused,  took  off  their  hats,  crossed 
themselves,  and  repeated  their  evening  prayer 
— a  pious  custom  still  rigidly  observed  in  re- 
tired parts  of  Spain.  Altogether,  it  was  a 
solemn  and  beautiful  evening  scene,  and  we 
wandered  on  as  the  evening  gradually  closed, 
and  the  new  moon  began  to  glitter  between 
the  high  elms  of  the  alameda.  We  were  roused 
from  this  quiet  state  of  enjoyment  by  the  voice 
of  our  trusty  squire  hailing  us  from  a  distance. 
He  came  up  to  us,  out  of  breath.  "Ah, 
senores"  cried  he,  "d  pobre  Sancho  no  es 
nada  sin  Don  Quixote."  (Ah,  senors,  poor 
Sancho  is  nothing  without  Don  Quixote.) 
He  had  been  alarmed  at  our  not  coming  to  the 
inn  ;  Ix)xa  was  such  a  wild  mountain  place, 
full  of  contrabandistas,  enchanters,  and  in- 
fiernos ;  he  did  not  well  know  what  might 
have  happened,  and  set  out  to  seek  us,  in- 
quiring after  us  of  every  person  he  met,  until 
he  traced  us  across  the  bridge,  and,  to  his 
great  joy,  caught  sight  of  us  strolling  in  the 
alameda. 

The  inn  to  which  he  conducted  us  was  called 
the  Corona,  or  Crown,  and  we  found  it  quite  in 
keeping  with  the  character  of  the  place,  the 
inhabitants  of  which  seem  still  to  retain  the 
bold,  fiery  spirit  of  the  olden  time.  The  hostess 


Ube  Bournes 


37 


was  a  young  and  handsome  Andalusian  widow, 
whose  trim  basqrdna  of  black  silk,  fringed  with 
bugles,  set  off  the  play  of  a  graceful  form  and 
round  pliant  limbs.  Her  step  was  firm  and 
elastic  ;  her  dark  eye  was  full  of  fire  ;  and  the 
coquetry  of  her  air,  and  varied  ornaments  of 
her  person,  showed  that  she  was  accustomed 
to  be  admired. 

She  was  well  matched  by  a  brother,  nearly 
about  her  own  age  ;  they  were  perfect  models 
of  the  Andalusian  majo  and  maja.  He  was 
tall,  vigorous^  and  well  formed,  with  a  clear 
olive  complexion,  a  dark  beaming  eye,  and 
curling  chestnut  whiskers  that  met  under  his 
chin.  He  was  gallantly  dressed  in  a  short 
green  velvet  jacket,  fitted  to  his  shape,  pro- 
fusely decorated  with  silver  buttons,  with  a 
white  handkerchief  in  each  pocket.  He  had 
breeches  of  the  same,  with  rows  of  buttons 
from  the  hips  to  the  knees  ;  a  pink  silk  hand- 
kerchief round  his  neck,  gathered  through  a 
ring,  on  the  bosom  of  a  neatly -plaited  shirt ;  a 
sash  round  the  waist  to  match  ;  bottinas,  or 
spatterdashes,  of  the  finest  russet  leather, 
elegantly  worked,  and  open  at  the  calf  to  show 
his  stocking  ;  and  russet  shoes,  setting  off  a 
well-shaped  foot. 

As  he  was  standing  at  the  door,  a  horseman 
rode  up  and  entered  into  low  and  earnest  con- 


38  ttbe  2Ubambra 

versa tion  with  him.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
similar  style,  and  almost  with  equal  finery  ;  a 
man  about  thirty,  square-built,  with  strong 
Roman  features,  handsome,  though  slightly 
pitted  with  the  small-pox ;  with  a  free,  bold, 
and  somewhat  daring  air.  His  powerful  black 
horse  was  decorated  with  tassels  and  fanciful 
trappings,  and  a  couple  of  broad-mouthed 
blunderbusses  hung  behind  the  saddle.  He 
had  the  air  of  one  of  those  contrabandistas  I 
have  seen  in  the  mountains  of  Ronda,  and 
evidently  had  a  good  understanding  with  the 
brother  of  mine  hostess  ;  nay,  if  I  mistake  not, 
he  was  a  favored  admirer  of  the  widow.  In 
fact,  the  whole  inn  and  its  inmates  had  some- 
thing of  a  contrabandista  aspect,  and  a  blun- 
derbuss stood  in  a  corner  beside  the  guitar. 
The  horseman  I  have  mentioned  passed  his 
evening  in  the  posada,  and  sang  several  bold 
mountain  romances  with  great  spirit.  As  we 
were  at  supper,  two  poor  Asturians  put  in,  in 
distress,  begging  food  and  a  night's  lodging. 
They  had  been  waylaid  by  robbers  as  they 
came  from  a  fair  among  the  mountains,  robbed 
of  a  horse  which  carried  all  their  stock  in 
trade,  stripped  of  their  money  and  most  of  their 
apparel,  beaten  for  having  offered  resistance, 
and  left  almost  naked  in  the  road.  My  com- 
panion, with  a  prompt  generosity  natural  to 


him,  ordered  them  a  supper  and  a  bed,  and 
gave  them  a  sum  of  money  to  help  them  forward 
towards  their  home. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  dramatis  per- 
sona thickened.  A  large  man,  about  sixty 
years  of  age,  of  powerful  frame,  came  strolling 
in,  to  gossip  with  mine  hostess.  He  was 
dressed  in  the  ordinary  Andalusian  costume, 
but  had  a  huge  sabre  tucked  under  his  arm ; 
wore  large  moustaches,  and  had  something  of  a 
lofty  swaggering  air.  Every  one  seemed  to 
regard  him  with  great  deference. 

Our  man  Sancho  whispered  to  us  that  he 
was  Don  Ventura  Rodriguez,  the  hero  and 
champion  of  I^oxa,  famous  for  his  prowess  and 
the  strength  of  his  arm.  In  the  time  of  the 
French  invasion  he  surprised  six  troopers  who 
were  asleep  ;  he  first  secured  their  horses,  then 
attacked  them  with  his  sabre,  killed  some,  and 
took  the  rest  prisoners.  For  this  exploit  the 
king  allows  him  a  peseta  (the  fifth  of  a  duro, 
or  dollar)  per  day,  and  has  dignified  him  with 
the  title  of  Don. 

I  was  amused  to  behold  his  swelling  lan- 
guage and  demeanor.  He  was  evidently  a 
thorough  Andalusian,  boastful  as  brave.  His 
sabre  was  always  in  his  hand  or  under  his  arm. 
He  carries  it  always  about  with  him  as  a  child 
does  its  doll,  calls  it  his  Santa  Teresa,  and  says, 


Cbc  Blbambra 

' '  When  I  draw  it,  the  earth  trembles  ' '  (tiembla 
la  tierra). 

I  sat  until  a  late  hour  listening  to  the  varied 
themes  of  this  motley  group,  who  mingled  to- 
gether with  the  unreserve  of  a  Spanish  posada. 
We  had  contrabandista  songs,  stories  of  rob- 
bers, guerrilla  exploits,  and  Moorish  legends. 
The  last  were  from  our  handsome  landlady, 
who  gave  a  poetical  account  of  the  infiernos,  or 
infernal  regions  of  L,oxa, — dark  caverns,  in 
which  subterranean  streams  and  waterfalls 
make  a  mysterious  sound.  The  common  peo- 
ple say  that  there  are  money-coiners  shut  up 
there  from  the  time  of  the  Moors,  and  that  the 
Moorish  kings  kept  their  treasures  in  those 
caverns. 

I  retired  to  bed  with  my  imagination  excited 
by  all  that  I  had  seen  and  heard  in  this  old 
warrior  city.  Scarce  had  I  fallen  asleep  when 
I  was  aroused  by  a  horrid  din  and  uproar,  that 
might  have  confounded  the  hero  of  L,a  Mancha 
himself,  whose  experience  of  Spanish  inns  was 
a  continual  uproar.  It  seemed  for  a  moment 
as  if  the  Moors  were  once  more  breaking  into 
the  town,  or  the  infiernos  of  which  mine 
hostess  talked  had  broken  loose.  I  sallied 
forth,  half  dressed,  to  reconnoitre.  It  was 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  charivari  to  cele- 
brate the  nuptials  of  an  old  man  with  a  buxom 


vibe  3ourneg 

damsel.  Wishing  him  joy  of  his  bride  and  his 
serenade,  I  returned  to  my  more  quiet  bed,  and 
slept  soundly  until  morning. 

While  dressing,  I  amused  myself  in  recon- 
noitring the  populace  from  my  window.  There 
were  groups  of  fine-looking  young  men  in  the 
trim  fanciful  Andalusian  costume,  with  brown 
cloaks,  thrown  about  them  in  true  Spanish 
style,  which  cannot  be  imitated,  and  little 
round  majo  hats  stuck  on  with  a  peculiar 
knowing  air.  They  had  the  same  galliard  look 
which  I  have  remarked  among  the  dandy  moun- 
taineers of  Ronda.  Indeed,  all  this  part  of 
Andalusia  abounds  with  such  game-looking 
characters.  They  loiter  about  the  towns  and 
villages,  seem  to  have  plenty  of  time  and  plenty 
of  money,  ' '  horse  to  ride  and  weapon  to  wear. ' ' 
Great  gossips,  great  smokers,  apt  at  touching 
the  guitar,  singing  couplets  to  their  maja 
belles,  and  famous  dancers  of  the  bolero. 
Throughout  all  Spain  the  men,  however  poor, 
have  a  gentlemanlike  abundance  of  leisure, 
seeming  to  consider  it  the  attribute  of  a  true 
cavaliero  never  to  be  in  a  hurry ;  but  the  An- 
dalusians  are  gay  as  well  as  leisurely,  and  have 
none  of  the  squalid  accompaniments  of  idle- 
ness. The  adventurous  contraband  trade  which 
prevails  throughout  these  mountain  regions, 
and  along  the  maritime  borders  of  Andalusia, 


Blbambra 


is  doubtless  at  the  bottom  of  this  galliard 
character. 

In  contrast  to  the  costume  of  these  groups 
was  that  of  two  long-legged  Valencians  con- 
ducting a  donkey,  laden  with  articles  of  mer- 
chandise, their  musket  slung  crosswise  over  his 
back,  ready  for  action.  They  wore  round 
jackets  (jalecos\  wide  linen  bragas  or  drawers 
scarce  reaching  to  their  knees  and  looking  like 
kilts,  red  faj  'as  or  sashes  swathed  tightly  round 
their  waists,  sandals  of  espartal  or  bass  weed, 
colored  kerchiefs  round  their  heads  somewhat 
in  the  style  of  turbans,  but  leaving  the  top  of 
the  head  uncovered  ;  in  short,  their  whole  ap- 
pearance having  much  of  the  traditional  Moor- 
ish stamp. 

On  leaving  L,oxa  we  were  joined  by  a  cava- 
lier, well  mounted  and  well  armed,  and  followed 
on  foot  by  an  escopetero  or  musketeer.  He 
saluted  us  courteously,  and  soon  let  us  into  his 
quality.  He  was  chief  of  the  customs,  or 
rather,  I  should  suppose,  chief  of  an  armed 
company  whose  business  it  is  to  patrol  the 
roads  and  look  out  for  contrabandistas.  The 
escopetero  was  one  of  his  guards.  In  the 
course  of  our  morning's  ride  I  drew  from  him 
some  particulars  concerning  the  smugglers,  who 
have  risen  to  be  a  kind  of  mongrel  chivalry  in 
Spain.  They  come  into  Andalusia,  he  said, 


View  of  the  Alhambra  and  the  Sierra 
Nevada  from  the  Church  of  San 
Nicolas,  on  the  Albaicin, 


3-ourneB 


from  various  parts,  but  especially  from  La 
Mancha  ;  sometimes  to  receive  goods,  to  be 
smuggled  on  an  appointed  night  across  the  line 
at  the  plaza  or  strand  of  Gibraltar  ;  sometimes 
to  meet  a  vessel,  which  is  to  hover  on  a  given 
night  off  a  certain  part  of  the  coast.  The}- 
keep  together  and  travel  in  the  night.  In  the 
daytime  they  lie  quiet  in  barrancos,  gullies  of 
the  mountains,  or  lonely  farm-houses,  where 
they  are  generally  well  received,  as  they  make 
the  family  liberal  presents  of  their  smuggled 
wares.  Indeed,  much  of  the  finery  and  trinkets 
worn  by  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  moun- 
tain hamlets  and  farm-houses  are  presents  from 
the  gay  and  open-handed  contrabandistas. 

Arrived  at  the  part  of  the  coast  where  a 
vessel  is  to  meet  them,  they  look  out  at  night 
from  some  rocky  point  or  headland.  If  they 
descry  a  sail  near  the  shore  they  make  a  con- 
certed signal  ;  sometimes  it  consists  in  sud- 
denly displaying  a  lantern  three  times  from 
beneath  the  folds  of  the  cloak.  If  the  signal  is 
answered,  they  descend  to  the  shore  and  pre- 
pare for  quick  work.  The  vessel  runs  close 
in  ;  all  her  boats  are  busy  landing  the  smug- 
gled goods,  made  up  into  snug  packages  for 
transportation  on  horseback.  These  are  hastily 
thrown  on  the  beach,  as  hastily  gathered  up 
and  packed  on  the  horses,  and  then  the  contra- 


Blbambrn 


bandistas  clatter  off  to  the  mountains.  They 
travel  by  the  roughest,  wildest,  and  most 
solitary  roads,  where  it  is  almost  fruitless  to 
pursue  them.  The  custom-house  guards  do 
not  attempt  it  :  they  take  a  different  course. 
When  they  hear  of  one  of  these  bands  return- 
ing full  freighted  through  the  mountains,  they 
go  out  in  force,  sometimes  twelve  infantry  and 
eight  horsemen,  and  take  their  station  where 
the  mountain  defile  opens  into  the  plain.  The 
infantry,  who  lie  in  ambush  some  distance 
within  the  defile,  suffer  the  band  to  pass,  then 
rise  and  fire  upon  them.  The  contrabandistas 
dash  forward,  but  are  met  in  front  by  the 
horsemen.  A  wild  skirmish  ensues.  The  con- 
trabandistas, if  hard  pressed,  become  desperate. 
Some  dismount,  use  their  horses  as  breast- 
works, and  fire  over  their  backs  ;  others  cut 
the  cords,  let  the  packs  fall  off  to  delay  the 
enemy,  and  endeavor  to  escape  with  their 
steeds.  Some  get  off  in  this  way  with  the  loss 
of  their  packages  ;  some  are  taken,  horses, 
packages,  and  all  ;  others  abandon  everything, 
and  make  their  escape  by  scrambling  up  the 
mountains.  "And  then,"  cried  Sancho,  who 
had  been  listening  with  a  greedy  ear,  '  '  se  hacen 
ladrones  legitimos"  —  "  and  then  they  become 
legitimate  robbers." 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  Sancho'  s  idea 


45 


of  a  legitimate  calling  of  the  kind  ;  but  the 
chief  of  customs  told  me  it  was  really  the  case 
that  the  smugglers,  when  thus  reduced  to 
extremity,  thought  the)*  had  a  kind  of  right 
to  take  the  road,  and  lay  travellers  under 
contribution,  until  they  had  collected  funds 
enough  to  mount  and  equip  themselves  in 
contrabandista  style. 

Towards  noon  our  wayfaring  companion 
took  leave  of  us  and  turned  up  a  steep  defile, 
followed  by  his  escopetero ;  and  shortly  after- 
wards we  emerged  from  the  mountains,  and 
entered  upon  the  far-famed  vega  of  Granada. 

Our  last  mid-day's  repast  was  taken  under  a 
grove  of  olive  trees  en  the  border  of  a  rivulet. 
We  were  in  a  classical  neighborhood  ;  for  not 
far  off  were  the  groves  and  orchards  of  the 
Soto  de  Roma.  This,  according  to  fabulous 
tradition,  was  a  retreat  founded  by  Count 
Julian  to  console  his  daughter  Florinda.  It 
was  a  rural  resort  of  the  Moorish  kings  of 
Granada ;  and  has  in  modern  times  been 
granted  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

Our  worthy  squire  made  a  half  melancholy 
face  as  he  drew  forth,  for  the  last  time,  the 
contents  of  his  alforjas,  lamenting  that  our 
expedition  was  drawing  to  a  close,  for,  with 
such  cavaliers,  he  said,  he  could  travel  to  the 
world's  end.  Our  repast,  however,  was  a  gay 


Blbambra 


one ;  made  under  such  delightful  auspices. 
The  day  was  without  a  cloud.  The  heat  of 
the  sun  was  tempered  by  cool  breezes  from  the 
mountains.  Before  us  extended  the  glorious 
Vega.  In  the  distance  was  romantic  Granada 
surmounted  by  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alham- 
bra,  while  far  above  it  the  snowy  summits  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada  shone  like  silver. 

Our  repast  finished,  we  spread  our  cloaks 
and  took  our  last  siesta  al  fresco,  lulled  by  the 
humming  of  bees  among  the  flowers  and  the 
notes  of  doves  among  the  olive  trees.  When 
the  sultry  hours  were  passed  we  resumed  our 
journey.  After  a  time  we  overtook  a  pursy 
little  man,  shaped  not  unlike  a  toad,  and 
mounted  on  a  mule.  He  fell  into  conversation 
with  Sancho,  and,  finding  we  were  strangers, 
undertook  to  guide  us  to  a  good  posada.  He 
was  an  escribano  (notary),  he  said,  and  knew 
the  city  as  thoroughly  as  his  own  pocket. 
"  Ah,  dios  senores  !  what  a  city  you  are  going 
to  see.  Such  streets  !  such  squares  !  such  pal- 
aces !  and  then  the  women — ah,  Santa  Maria 
purisima — what  women  !  " — "  But  the  posada 
you  talk  of,"  said  I,  "  are  you  sure  it  is  a  good 
one  ? ' ' 

"  Good  !  Santa  Maria  !  the  best  in  Granada. 
Salones  grandes — camas  de  luxo — colchones  de 
pluma  (grand  saloons  —  luxurious  sleeping- 


ttbe 


47 


rooms — beds  of  down).  Ah,  senores,  you  will 
fare  like  King  Chico  in  the  Alhambra. ' ' 

' '  And  how  will  my  horses  fare  ?  ' '  cried 
Sancho. 

"  I,ike  King  Chico' s  horses.  Chocolate  con 
leche  y  bollos  para  almuerza  ' '  (chocolate  and 
milk  with  sugar  cakes  for  breakfast),  giving 
the  squire  a  knowing  wink  and  a  leer. 

After  such  satisfactory  accounts,  nothing 
more  was  to  be  desired  on  that  head.  So  we 
rode  quietly  on,  the  squab  little  notary  taking 
the  lead,  and  turning  to  us  every  moment  with 
some  fresh  exclamation  about  the  grandeurs 
of  Granada  and  the  famous  times  we  were 
to  have  at  the  posada. 

Thus  escorted,  we  passed  between  hedges  of 
aloes  and  Indian  figs,  and  through  that  wilder- 
ness of  gardens  with  which  the  Vega  is  em- 
broidered, and  arrived  about  sunset  at  the 
gates  of  the  city.  Our  officious  little  conductor 
conveyed  us  up  one  street  and  down  another, 
until  he  rode  into  the  courtyard  of  an  inn 
where  he  appeared  to  be  perfectly  at  home. 
Summoning  the  landlord  by  his  Christian 
name,  he  committed  us  to  his  care  as  two 
cavalleros  de  mucho  valor,  worthy  of  his  best 
apartments  and  most  sumptuous  fare.  We 
were  instantly  reminded  of  the  patronizing 
stranger  who  introduced  Gil  Bias  with  such  a 


aibambra 


flourish  of  trumpets  to  the  host  and  hostess  of 
the  inn  at  Pennaflor,  ordering  trouts  for  his 
supper,  and  eating  voraciously  at  his  expense. 
'  '  You  know  not  what  you  possess,  '  '  cried  he 
to  the  innkeeper  and  his  wife.  '  '  You  have  a 
treasure  in  your  house."  Behold  in  this  young 
gentleman  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world  — 
nothing  in  this  house  is  too  good  for  Sefior  Gil 
Bias  of  Santillane,  who  deserves  to  be  enter- 
tained like  a  prince.  '  ' 

Determined  that  the  little  notary  should  not 
eat  trouts  at  our  expense,  like  his  prototype  of 
Pennaflor,  we  forbore  to  ask  him  to  supper  ; 
nor  had  we  reason  to  reproach  ourselves  with 
ingratitude,  for  we  found  before  morning  the 
little  varlet,  who  was  no  doubt  a  good  friend 
of  the  landlord,  had  decoyed  us  into  one  of  the 
shabbiest  posadas  in  Granada. 


palace  of  tbe  Hlbambra. 

TO  the  traveller  imbued  with  a  feeling  for 
the  historical  and  poetical,  so  inseparably 
intertwined  in  the  annals  of  romantic 
Spain,  the  Alhambra  is  as  much  an  object  of 
devotion  as  is  the  Caaba  to  all  true  Moslems. 
How  many  legends  and  traditions,  true  and 
fabulous, — how  many  songs  and  ballads,  Ara- 
bian and  Spanish,  of  love  and  war  and  chiv- 
alry, are  associated  with  this  Oriental  pile  !  It 
was  the  royal  abode  of  the  Moorish  kings, 
where,  surrounded  with  the  splendors  and  re- 
finements of  Asiatic  luxury,  they  held  domin- 
ion over  what  they  vaunted  as  a  terrestrial 
paradise,  and  made  their  last  stand  for  empire 
in  Spain.  The  royal  palace  forms  but  a  part 
of  a  fortress,  the  walls  of  which,  studded  with 
towers,  stretch  irregularly  round  the  whole 
crest  of  a  hill,  a  spur  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  or 
Snowy  Mountains,  and  overlook  the  city  ;  ex- 
ternally it  is  a  rude  congregation  of  towers  and 
battlements,  with  no  regularity  of  plan  nor 


I 

^.v 

I 


Blbambra 


grace  of  architecture,  and  giving  little  promise 
of  the  grace  and  beauty  which  prevail  within. 
In  the  time  of  the  Moors  the  fortress  was 
capable  of  containing  within  its  outward  pre- 
cincts an  army  of  forty  thousand  men,  and 
served  occasionally  as  a  stronghold  of  the  sov- 
ereigns against  their  rebellious  subjects.  After 
the  kingdom  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
Christians,  the  Alhambra  continued  to  be  a 
royal  demesne,  and  was  occasionally  inhabited 
by  the  Castilian  monarchs.  The  emperor 
Charles  V.  commenced  a  sumptuous  palace 
within  its  walls,  but  was  deterred  from  com- 
pleting it  by  repeated  shocks  of  earthquakes. 
The  last  royal  residents  were  Philip  V.  and  his 
beautiful  queen,  Elizabetta  of  Parma,  early  in 
the  eighteenth  century.  Great  preparations 
were  made  for  their  reception.  The  palace 
and  gardens  were  placed  in  a  state  of  repair, 
and  a  new  suite  of  apartments  erected,  and 
decorated  by  artists  brought  from  Italy.  The 
sojourn  of  the  sovereigns  was  transient,  and 
after  their  departure  the  palace  once  more  be- 
came desolate.  Still  the  place  was  maintained 
with  some  military  state.  The  governor  held 
it  immediately  from  the  crown,  its  jurisdiction 
extended  down  into  the  suburbs  of  the  city, 
and  was  independent  of  the  captain-general  of 
Granada.  A  considerable  garrison  was  kept 


Section    of    Decorated    Ceiling    in 
Palace  of  the  Alhambra. 


palace  of  tbc  Blbambra 


up  ;  the  governor  had  his  apartments  in  the 
front  of  the  old  Moorish  palace,  and  never  de- 
scended into  Granada  without  some  military 
parade.  The  fortress,  in  fact,  was  a  little  town 
of  itself,  having  several  streets  of  houses  within 
its  walls,  together  with  a  Franciscan  convent 
and  a  parochial  church. 

The  desertion  of  the  court,  however,  was  a 
fatal  blow  to  the  Alhambra.  Its  beautiful 
halls  became  desolate,  and  some  of  them  fell  to 
ruin  ;  the  gardens  were  destroyed,  and  the 
fountains  ceased  to  play.  By  degrees  the 
dwellings  became  filled  with  a  loose  and  law- 
less population  :  contrabandistas>  who  availed 
themselves  of  its  independent  jurisdiction  to 
carry  on  a  wide  and  daring  course  of  smug- 
gling, and  thieves  and  rogues  of  all  sorts,  who 
made  this  their  place  of  refuge  whence  they 
might  depredate  upon  Granada  and  its  vicinity. 
The  strong  arm  of  government  at  length  inter- 
fered ;  the  whole  community  was  thoroughly 
sifted  ;  none  were  suffered  to  remain  but  such 
as  were  of  honest  character,  and  had  legitimate 
right  to  a  residence  ;  the  greater  part  of  the 
houses  were  demolished  and  a  mere  hamlet 
left,  with  the  parochial  church  and  the  Fran- 
ciscan convent.  During  the  recent  troubles  in 
Spain,  when  Granada  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
French,  the  Alhambra  was  garrisoned  by  their 


Blbambra 


troops,  and  the  palace  was  occasionally  inhabi- 
ted by  the  French  commander.  With  that  en- 
lightened taste  which  has  ever  distinguished 
the  French  nation  in  their  conquests,  this 
monument  of  Moorish  elegance  and  grandeur 
was  rescued  from  the  absolute  ruin  and  desola- 
tion that  were  overwhelming  it.  The  roofs 
were  repaired,  the  saloons  and  galleries  pro- 
tected from  the  weather,  the  gardens  cultivated, 
the  watercourses  restored,  the  fountains  once 
more  made  to  throw  up  their  sparkling  show- 
ers ;  and  Spain  may  thank  her  invaders  for 
having  preserved  to  her  the  most  beautiful  and 
interesting  of  her  historical  monuments. 

On  the  departure  of  the  French  they  blew  up 
several  towers  of  the  outer  wall,  and  left  the 
fortifications  scarcely  tenable.  Since  that  time 
the  military  importance  of  the  post  is  at  an  end. 
The  garrison  is  a  handful  of  invalid  soldiers, 
whose  principal  duty  is  to  guard  some  of  the 
outer  towers,  which  serve  occasionally  as  a 
prison  of  state  ;  and  the  governor,  abandoning 
the  lofty  hill  of  the  Alhambra,  resides  in  the 
centre  of  Granada,  for  the  more  convenient  de- 
spatch of  his  official  duties.  I  cannot  conclude 
this  brief  notice  of  the  state  of  the  fortress  with- 
out bearing  testimony  to  the  honorable  exer- 
tions of  its  present  commander,  Don  Francisco 
de  Serna,  who  is  tasking  all  the  limited  re- 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 


53 


sources  at  his  command  to  put  the  palace  in  a 
state  of  repair,  and  by  his  judicious  precautions 
has  for  some  time  arrested  its  too  certain  decay. 
Had  his  predecessors  discharged  the  duties  of 
their  station  with  equal  fidelity,  the  Alhambra 
might  yet  have  remained  in  almost  its  pristine 
beauty  ;  were  government  to  second  him  with 
means  equal  to  his  zeal,  this  relic  of  it  might 
still  be  preserved  for  many  generations  to  adorn 
the  land,  and  attract  the  curious  and  enlight- 
ened of  every  clime. 

Our  first  object,  of  course,  on  the  morning 
after  our  arrival,  was  a  visit  to  this  time-honored 
edifice ;  it  has  been  so  often,  however,  and  so 
minutely  described  by  travellers,  that  I  shall 
not  undertake  to  give  a  comprehensive  and 
elaborate  account  of  it,  but  merely  occasional 
sketches  of  parts,  with  the  incidents  and  asso- 
ciations connected  with  them. 

leaving  our  posada,  and  traversing  the  re- 
nowned square  of  the  Vivarrambla,  once  the 
scene  of  Moorish  jousts  and  tournaments,  now 
a  crowded  market-place,  we  proceeded  along 
the  Zacatin,  the  main  street  of  what,  in  the 
time  of  the  Moors,  was  the  Great  Bazaar,  and 
where  small  shops  and  narrow  alleys  still  retain 
the  Oriental  character.  Crossing  an  open  place 
in  front  of  the  palace  of  the  captain-general,  we 
ascended  a  confined  and  winding  street,  the 


Blbambra 


name  of  which  reminded  us  of  the  chivalric 
days  of  Granada.  It  is  called  the  Calle,  or 
street  of  the  Gomeres,  from  a  Moorish  family 
famous  in  chronicle  and  song.  This  street  led 
up  to  the  Puerta  de  las  Granadas,  a  massive 
gateway  of  Grecian  architecture,  built  by 
Charles  V.,  forming  the  entrance  to  the  do- 
mains of  the  Alhambra. 

At  the  gate  were  two  or  three  ragged  super- 
annuated soldiers,  dozing  on  a  stone  bench,  the 
successors  of  the  Zegris  and  the  Abencerrages  ; 
while  a  tall,  meagre  varlet,  whose  rusty  -brown 
cloak  was  evidently  intended  to  conceal  the 
ragged  state  of  his  nether  garments,  was  loun- 
ging in  the  sunshine  and  gossiping  with  an 
ancient  sentinel  on  duty.  He  joined  us  as  we 
entered  the  gate,  and  offered  his  services  to 
show  us  the  fortress. 

I  have  a  traveller's  dislike  to  officious  cice- 
roni, and  did  not  altogether  like  the  garb  of  the 
applicant. 

'  '  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  I 
presume  ?  '  ' 

'  '  Ninguno  mas  ;  flues,  senor,  soy  hijo  de  la 
Alhambra:'  —  (Nobody  better  ;  in  fact,  sir,  I  am 
a  son  of  the  Alhambra  !) 

The  common  Spaniards  have  certainly  a  most 
poetic  way  of  expressing  themselves.  '  '  A  son 
of  the  Alhambra  !  '  '  the  appellation  caught  me 


palace  of  tbe  Slbambra 


55 


at  once  ;  the  very  tattered  garb  of  my  new  ac- 
quaintance assumed  a  dignity  in  my  eyes.  It 
was  emblematic  of  the  fortunes  of  the  place, 
and  befitted  the  progeny  of  a  ruin. 

I  put  some  further  questions  to  him,  and 
found  that  his  title  was  legitimate.  His  family 
had  lived  in  the  fortress  from  generation  to 
generation  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Conquest. 
His  name  was  Mateo  Ximenes.  ' '  Then,  per- 
haps," said  I,  "you  may  be  a  descendant  from 
the  great  Cardinal  Ximenes  ?  "  "  Dios  sabe  ! 
God  knows,  seiior  !  It  may  be  so.  We  are 
the  oldest  family  in  the  Alhambra, — Christianos 
viefos,  old  Christians,  without  any  taint  of 
Moor  or  Jew.  I  know  we  belong  to  some  great 
family  or  other,  but  I  forget  whom.  My  father 
knows  all  about  it ;  he  has  the  coat-of-arms 
hanging  up  in  his  cottage,  up  in  the  fortress. ' ' 
There  is  not  any  Spaniard,  however  poor,  but 
has  some  claim  to  high  pedigree.  The  first 
title  of  this  ragged  worthy,  however,  had  com- 
pletely captivated  me,  so  I  gladly  accepted  the 
services  of  the  ' '  son  of  the  Alhambra. ' ' 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  deep,  narrow 
ravine,  filled  with  beautiful  groves,  with  a  steep 
avenue,  and  various  footpaths  winding  through 
it,  bordered  with  stone  seats,  and  ornamented 
with  fountains.  To  our  left  we  beheld  the 
towers  of  the  Alhambra  beetling  above  us  ;  to 


Blbambra 


our  right,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine,  we 
were  equally  dominated  by  rival  towers  on  a 
rocky  eminence.  These,  we  were  told,  were 
the  torres  vermejos,  or  vermilion  towers,  so 
called  from  their  ruddy  hue.  No  one  knows 
their  origin.  They  are  of  a  date  much  anterior 
to  the  Alhambra  :  some  suppose  them  to  have 
been  built  by  the  Romans ;  others,  by  some 
wandering  colony  of  Phoenicians.  Ascending 
the  steep  and  shady  avenue,  we  arrived  at  the 
foot  of  a  huge  square  Moorish  tower,  forming 
a  kind  of  barbican,  through  which  passed  the 
main  entrance  to  the  fortress.  Within  the 
barbican  was  another  group  of  veteran  invalids, 
one  mounting  guard  at  the  portal,  while  the 
rest,  wrapped  in  their  tattered  cloaks,  slept  on 
the  stone  benches.  This  portal  is  called  the 
Gate  of  Justice,  from  the  tribunal  held  within 
its  porch  during  the  Moslem  domination,  for 
the  immediate  trial  of  petty  causes — a  custom 
common  to  the  Oriental  nations,  and  occa- 
sionally alluded  to  in  the  sacred  Scriptures. 
"Judges  and  officers  shalt  thou  make  thee  in 
all  thy  gates,  and  they  shall  judge  the  people 
with  just  judgment. ' ' 

The  great  vestibule,  or  porch  of  the  gate,  is 
formed  by  an  immense  Arabian  arch,  of  the 
horseshoe  form,  which  springs  to  half  the  height 
of  the  tower.  On  the  keystone  of  this  arch  is 


Forest  of  Elm    Trees  outside   the  Walls 
of  the  Alhambra. 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 


57 


engraven  a  gigantic  hand.  Within  the  vesti- 
bule, on  the  keystone  of  the  portal,  is  sculp- 
tured, in  like  manner,  a  gigantic  key.  Those 
who  pretend  to  some  knowledge  of  Mohamme- 
dan symbols  affirm  that  the  hand  is  the  emblem 
of  doctrine,  the  five  fingers  designating  the  five 
principal  commandments  of  the  creed  of  Islam, 
fasting,  pilgrimage,  almsgiving,  ablution,  and 
war  against  infidels.  The  key,  say  they,  is  the 
emblem  of  the  faith  or  of  power ;  the  key  of 
Daoud,  or  David,  transmitted  to  the  prophet. 
"  And  the  key  of  the  house  of  David  will  I  lay 
upon  his  shoulder  ;  so  he  shall  open  and  none 
shall  shut,  and  he  shall  shut  and  none  shall 
open."  (Isaiah  xxii.,  22.)  The  key  we  are 
told  was  emblazoned  on  the  standard  of  the 
Moslems  in  opposition  to  the  Christian  emblem 
of  the  cross,  when  they  subdued  Spain  or  An- 
dalusia. It  betokened  the  conquering  power 
invested  in  the  prophet.  "He  that  hath  the 
key  of  David,  he  that  openeth  and  no  man 
shutteth  ;  and  shutteth  and  no  man  openeth." 
(Rev.  iii.,  7.) 

A  different  explanation  of  these  emblems, 
however,  was  given  by  the  legitimate  son  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  one  more  in  unison  with 
the  notions  of  the  common  people,  who  attach 
something  of  mystery  and  magic  to  everything 
Moorish,  and  have  all  kinds  of  superstitions 


Blbambra 


connected  with  this  old  Moslem  fortress.  Ac- 
cording to  Mateo,  it  was  a  tradition  handed 
down  from  the  oldest  inhabitants,  and  which 
he  had  from  his  father  and  grandfather,  that 
the  hand  and  key  were  magical  devices  on 
which  the  fate  of  the  Alhambra  depended. 
The  Moorish  king  who  built  it  was  a  great 
magician,  or,  as  some  believed,  had  sold  him- 
self to  the  devil,  and  had  laid  the  whole 
fortress  under  a  magic  spell.  By  this  means 
it  had  remained  standing  for  several  years,  in 
defiance  of  storms  and  earthquakes,  while 
almost  all  other  buildings  of  the  Moors  had 
fallen  to  ruin  and  disappeared.  This  spell, 
the  tradition  went  on  to  say,  would  last  until 
the  hand  on  the  outer  arch  should  reach  down 
and  grasp  the  key,  when  the  whole  pile  would 
tumble  to  pieces,  and  all  the  treasures  buried 
beneath  it  by  the  Moors  would  be  revealed. 

Notwithstanding  this  ominous  prediction,  we 
ventured  to  pass  through  the  spellbound  gate- 
way, feeling  some  little  assurance  against  magic 
art  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin,  a  statue  of 
whom  we  observed  above  the  portal. 

After  passing  through  the  barbican,  we  as- 
cended a  narrow  lane,  winding  between  walls, 
and  came  on  an  open  esplanade  within  the 
fortress,  called  the  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or 
Place  of  the  Cisterns,  from  great  reservoirs 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 


59 


which  undermine  it,  cut  in  the  living  rock  by 
the  Moors  to  receive  the  water  brought  by  con- 
duits from  the  Darro,  for  the  supply  of  the 
fortress.  Here,  also,  is  a  well  of  immense 
depth,  furnishing  the  purest  and  coldest  of 
water, — another  monument  of  the  delicate  taste 
of  the  Moors,  who  were  indefatigable  in  their 
exertions  to  obtain  that  element  in  its  crystal 
purity. 

In  front  of  this  esplanade  is  the  splendid  pile 
commenced  by  Charles  V.,  and  intended,  it  is 
said,  to  eclipse  the  residence  of  the  Moorish 
kings.  Much  of  the  Oriental  edifice  intended 
for  the  winter  season  was  demolished  to  make 
way  for  this  massive  pile.  The  grand  entrance 
was  blocked  up,  so  that  the  present  entrance  to 
the  Moorish  palace  is  through  a  simple  and 
almost  humble  portal  in  a  corner.  With  all 
the  massive  grandeur  and  architectural  merit 
of  the  palace  of  Charles  V.,  we  regarded  it  as 
an  arrogant  intruder,  and,  passing  by  it  with  a 
feeling  almost  of  scorn,  rang  at  the  Moslem 
portal. 

While  waiting  for  admittance,  our  self-im- 
posed cicerone,  Mateo  Ximenes,  informed  us 
that  the  royal  palace  was  entrusted  to  the  care 
of  a  worthy  old  maiden  dame  called  Dona 
Antonia-Molina,  but  who,  according  to  Spanish 
custom,  went  by  the  more  neighborly  appella- 


6o 


Slbambra 


tion  of  Tia  Antonia  (Aunt  Antonia),  who 
maintained  the  Moorish  halls  and  gardens  in 
order  and  showed  them  to  strangers.  While 
we  were  talking,  the  door  was  opened  by  a 
plump  little  black-eyed  Andalusian  damsel, 
whom  Mateo  addressed  as  Dolores,  but  who, 
from  her  bright  looks  and  cheerful  disposition, 
evidently  merited  a  merrier  name.  Mateo  in- 
formed me  in  a  whisper  that  she  was  the  niece 
of  Tia  Antonia,  and  I  found  she  was  the  good 
fairy  who  was  to  conduct  us  through  the  en- 
chanted palace.  Under  her  guidance  we  crossed 
the  threshold,  and  were  at  once  transported,  as 
if  by  magic  wand,  into  other  times  and  an 
Oriental  realm,  and  were  treading  the  scenes 
of  Arabian  story.  Nothing  could  be  in  greater 
contrast  than  the  unpromising  exterior  of  the 
pile  with  the  scene  now  before  us.  We  found 
ourselves  in  a  vast  patio  or  court,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  in  length,  and  upwards  of  eighty 
feet  in  breadth,  paved  with  white  marble,  and 
decorated  at  each  end  with  light  Moorish 
peristyles,  one  of  which  supported  an  elegant 
gallery  of  fretted  architecture.  Along  the 
mouldings  of  the  cornices  and  on  various  parts 
of  the  walls  were  escutcheons  and  ciphers,  and 
cufic  and  Arabic  characters  in  high  relief, 
repeating  the  pious  mottoes  of  the  Moslem 
monarchs,  the  builders  of  the  Alhambra,  or 


palace  of  tbc  Blbambra 

extolling  their  grandeur  and  munificence. 
Along  the  centre  of  the  court  extended  an  im- 
mense basin  or  tank  (estanque, )  a  hundred  and 
twenty-four  feet  in  length,  twenty-seven  in 
breadth,  and  five  in  depth,  receiving  its  water 
from  two  marble  vases.  Hence  it  is  called  the 
Court  of  the  Alberca  (from  al  beerkah,  the 
Arabic  for  a  pond  or  tank).  Great  numbers 
of  gold-fish  were  to  be  seen  gleaming  through 
the  waters  of  the  basin,  and  it  was  bordered  by 
hedges  of  roses. 

Passing  from  the  Court  of  the  Alberca  under 
a  Moorish  archway,  we  entered  the  renowned 
Court  of  Lions.  No  part  of  the  edifice  gives  a 
more  complete  idea  of  its  original  beauty  than 
this,  for  none  has  suffered  so  little  from  the 
ravages  of  time.  In  the  centre  stands  the  foun- 
tain famous  in  song  and  story.  The  alabaster 
basins  still  shed  their  diamond  drops ;  the 
twelve  lions  which  support  them,  and  give 
the  court  its  name,  still  cast  forth  crystal 
streams  as  in  the  days  of  Boabdil.  The  lions, 
however,  are  unworthy  of  their  fame,  being  of 
miserable  sculpture,  the  work  probably  of  some 
Christian  captive.  The  court  is  laid  out  in 
flower-beds,  instead  of  its  ancient  and  appro- 
priate pavement  of  tiles  or  marble  ;  the  altera- 
tion, an  instance  of  bad  taste,  was  made  by  the 
French  when  in  possession  of  Granada.  Round 


62 


aibambra 


the  four  sides  of  the  court  are  light  Arabian 
arcades  of  open  filigree  work,  supported  by 
slender  pillars  of  white  marble,  which  it  is 
supposed  were  originally  gilded.  The  archi- 
tecture, like  that  in  most  parts  of  the  interior 
of  the  palace,  is  characterized  by  elegance 
rather  than  grandeur,  bespeaking  a  delicate 
and  graceful  taste,  and  a  disposition  to  indolent 
enjoyment.  When  one  looks  upon  the  fairy 
traces  of  the  peristyles,  and  the  apparently 
fragile  fretwork  of  the  walls,  it  is  difficult  to 
believe  that  so  much  has  survived  the  wear 
and  tear  of  centuries,  the  shocks  of  earthquakes, 
the  violence  of  war,  and  the  quiet,  though  no 
less  baneful,  pilferings  of  the  tasteful  traveller  : 
it  is  almost  sufficient  to  excuse  the  popular 
tradition  that  the  whole  is  protected  by  a  magic 
charm. 

On  one  side  of  the  court  a  rich  portal  opens 
into  the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages  :  so  called 
from  the  gallant  cavaliers  of  that  illustrious 
line  who  were  here  perfidiously  massacred. 
There  are  some  who  doubt  the  whole  story, 
but  our  humble  cicerone  Mateo  pointed  out  the 
very  wicket  of  the  portal  through  which  they 
were  introduced  one  by  one  into  the  Court  of 
L,ions,  and  the  white  marble  fountain  in  the 
centre  of  the  hall  beside  which  they  were  be- 
headed. He  showed  us  also  certain  broad 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 

ruddy  stains  on  the  pavement,  traces  of  their 
blood,  which,  according  to  popular  belief,  can 
never  be  effaced . 

Finding  we  listened  to  him  apparently  with 
easy  faith,  he  added,  that  there  was  often  heard 
at  night,  in  the  Court  of  Lions,  a  low  confused 
sound,  resembling  the  murmuring  of  a  multi- 
tude, and  now  and  then  a  faint  tinkling,  like 
the  distant  clank  of  chains.  These  sounds 
were  made  by  the  spirits  of  the  murdered 
Abencerrages  ;  who  nightly  haunt  the  scene  of 
their  suffering  and  invoke  the  vengeance  of 
Heaven  on  their  destroyer. 

The  sounds  in  question  had  no  doubt  been 
produced,  as  I  had  afterwards  an  opportunity 
of  ascertaining,  by  the  bubbling  currents  and 
tinkling  falls  of  water  conducted  under  the 
pavement  through  pipes  and  channels  to  sup- 
ply the  fountains  ;  but  I  was  too  considerate  to 
intimate  such  an  idea  to  the  humble  chronicler 
of  the  Alhambra. 

Encouraged  by  my  easy  credulity,  Mateo 
gave  me  the  following  as  an  undoubted  fact, 
which  he  had  from  his  grandfather  : 

There  was  once  an  invalid  soldier,  who  had 
charge  of  the  Alhambra  to  show  it  to  strangers  ; 
as  he  was  one  evening,  about  twilight,  passing 
through  the  Court  of  Lions,  he  heard  footsteps 
on  the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages  ;  supposing 


Slbambra 


some  strangers  to  be  lingering  there,  he  ad- 
vanced to  attend  upon  them,  when  to  his  aston- 
ishment he  beheld  four  Moors  richly  dressed, 
with  gilded  cuirasses  and  cimeters,  and  poniards 
glittering  with  precious  stones.  They  were 
walking  to  and  fro,  with  solemn  pace ;  but 
paused  and  beckoned  to  him.  The  old  soldier, 
however,  took  to  flight,  and  could  never  after- 
wards be  prevailed  upon  to  enter  the  Alham- 
bra.  Thus  it  is  that  men  sometimes  turn  their 
backs  upon  fortune  ;  for  it  is  the  firm  opinion 
of  Mateo,  that  the  Moors  intended  to  reveal  the 
place  where  their  treasures  lay  buried.  A  suc- 
cessor to  the  invalid  soldier  was  more  know- 
ing ;  he  came  to  the  Alhambra  poor ;  but  at 
the  end  of  a  year  went  off  to  Malaga,  bought 
houses,  set  up  a  carriage,  and  still  lives  there, 
one  of  the  richest  as  well  as  oldest  men  of  the 
place  ;  all  which,  Mateo  sagely  surmised,  was 
in  consequence  of  his  finding  out  the  golden 
secret  of  these  phantom  Moors. 

I  now  perceived  I  had  made  an  invaluable 
acquaintance  in  this  son  of  the  Alhambra,  one 
who  knew  all  the  apocryphal  history  of  the 
place,  and  firmly  believed  in  it,  and  whose 
memory  was  stuffed  with  a  kind  of  knowledge 
for  which  I  have  a  lurking  fancy,  but  which 
is  too  apt  to  be  considered  rubbish  by  less 
indulgent  philosophers.  I  determined  to  cul- 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 


tivate  the  acquaintance  of  this  learned  The- 
ban. 

Immediately  opposite  the  Hall  of  the  Aben- 
cerrages,  a  portal,  richly  adorned,  leads  into  a 
hall  of  less  tragical  associations.  It  is  light 
and  lofty,  exquisitely  graceful  in  its  architec- 
ture, paved  with  white  marble,  and  bears  the 
suggestive  name  of  the  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters. 
Some  destroy  the  romance  of  the  name  by  at- 
tributing it  to  two  enormous  slabs  of  alabaster 
which  lie  side  by  side,  and  form  a  great  part  of 
the  pavement :  an  opinion  strongly  supported 
by  Mateo  Ximenes.  Others  are  disposed  to 
give  the  name  a  more  poetical  significance,  as 
the  vague  memorial  of  Moorish  beauties  who 
once  graced  this  hall,  which  was  evidently  a 
part  of  the  royal  harem.  This  opinion  I  was 
happy  to  find  entertained  by  our  little  bright- 
eyed  guide,  Dolores,  who  pointed  to  a  balcony 
over  an  inner  porch,  which  gallery,  she  had 
been  told,  belonged  to  the  women's  apartment. 
"  You  see,  senor,"  said  she,  "it  is  all  grated 
and  latticed,  like  the  gallery  in  a  convent 
chapel  where  the  nuns  hear  mass ;  for  the 
Moorish  kings,"  added  she,  indignantly, 
"  shut  up  their  wives  just  like  nuns." 

The  latticed  "jalousies,"  in  fact,  still  re- 
main, whence  the  dark-eyed  beauties  of  the 
harem  might  gaze  unseen  upon  the  zambras 


66 


Slbambra 


and  other  dances  and  entertainments  of  the 
hall  below. 

On  each  side  of  this  hall  are  recesses  or  al- 
coves for  ottomans  and  couches,  on  which  the 
voluptuous  lords  of  the  Alhambra  indulged  in 
that  dreamy  repose  so  dear  to  the  Orientalists. 
A  cupola  or  lantern  admits  a  tempered  light 
from  above  and  a  free  circulation  of  air  ;  while 
on  one  side  is  heard  the  refreshing  sound  of 
waters  from  the  Fountain  of  the  Lions,  and  on 
the  other  side  the  soft  plash  from  the  basin  in 
the  garden  of  L,indaraxa. 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  this  scene, 
so  perfectly  Oriental,  without  feeling  the  early 
associations  of  Arabian  romance,  and  almost 
expecting  to  see  the  white  arm  of  some  mys- 
terious princess  beckoning  from  the  gallery,  or 
some  dark  eye  sparkling  through  the  lattice. 
The  abode  of  beauty  is  here  as  if  it  had  been 
inhabited  but  yesterday  ;  but  where  are  the  two 
sisters,  where  the  Zoraydas  and  L,indaraxas  ! 

An  abundant  supply  of  water,  brought  from 
the  mountains  by  old  Moorish  aqueducts,  cir- 
culates throughout  the  palace,  supplying  its 
baths  and  fish-pools,  sparkling  in  jets  within 
its  halls  or  murmuring  in  channels  along  the 
marble  pavements.  When  it  has  paid  its 
tribute  to  the  royal  pile,  and  visited  its  gardens 
and  parterres,  it  flows  down  the  long  avenue 


palace  of  tbe  Blbambra 


67 


leading  to  the  city,  tinkling  in  rills,  gushing  in 
fountains,  and  maintaining  a  perpetual  verdure 
in  those  groves  that  embower  and  beautify  the 
whole  hill  of  the  Alhambra. 

Those  only  who  have  sojourned  in  the  ardent 
climates  of  the  South  can  appreciate  the  de- 
lights of  an  abode  combining  the  breezy  cool- 
ness of  the  mountain  with  the  freshness  and 
verdure  of  the  valley.  While  the  city  below 
pants  with  the  noontide  heat,  and  the  parched 
Vega  trembles  to  the  eye,  the  delicate  airs 
from  the  Sierra  Nevada  play  through  these 
lofty  halls,  bringing  with  them  the  sweetness 
of  the  surrounding  gardens.  Everything  in- 
vites to  that  indolent  repose,  the  bliss  of  south- 
ern climes  ;  and  while  the  half-shut  eye  looks 
out  from  shaded  balconies  upon  the  glittering 
landscape,  the  ear  is  lulled  by  the  rustling  of 
groves  and  the  murmur  of  running  streams. 

I  forbear  for  the  present,  however,  to  describe 
the  other  delightful  apartments  of  the  palace. 
My  object  is  merely  to  give  the  reader  a  gen- 
eral introduction  into  an  abode  where,  if  so 
disposed,  he  may  linger  and  loiter  with  me 
day  by  day  until  we  gradually  become  familiar 
with  all  its  localities. 


68 


Blbambra 


NOTE  ON  MORISCO  ARCHITECTURE. 

To  an  unpractised  eye  the  light  relievos  and  fanciful 
arabesques  which  cover  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra 
appear  to  have  been  sculptured  by  the  hand,  with  a 
minute  and  patient  labor,  an  inexhaustible  variety  of 
detail,  yet  a  general  uniformity  and  harmony  of  design 
truly  astonishing  ;  and  this  may  especially  be  said  of 
the  vaults  and  cupolas,  which  are  wrought  like  honey- 
combs, or  frostwork,  with  stalactites  and  pendants 
which  confound  the  beholder  with  the  seeming  in- 
tricacy of  their  patterns.  The  astonishment  ceases, 
however,  when  it  is  discovered  that  this  is  all  stucco- 
work  ;  plates  of  plaster  of  Paris,  cast  in  moulds  and 
skilfully  joined  so  as  to  form  patterns  of  every  size 
and  form.  This  mode  of  diapering  walls  with  ara- 
besques, and  stuccoing  the  vaults  with  grotto-work, 
was  invented  in  Damascus,  but  highly  improved  by 
the  Moors  in  Morocco,  to  whom  Saracenic  architecture 
owes  its  most  graceful  and  fanciful  details.  The  pro- 
cess by  which  all  this  fairy  tracery  was  produced  was 
ingeniously  simple.  The  wall  in  its  naked  state  was 
divided  off  by  lines  crossing  at  right  angles,  such  as 
artists  use  in  copying  a  picture ;  over  these  were 
drawn  a  succession  of  intersecting  segments  of  circles. 
By  the  aid  of  these  the  artists  could  work  with  celerity 
and  certainty,  and  from  the  mere  intersection  of  the 
plain  and  curved  lines  arose  the  interminable  va- 
riety of  patterns  and  the  general  uniformity  of  their 
character.* 

Much  gilding  was  used  in  the  stucco-work,  espe- 
cially of  the  cupolas  ;  and  the  interstices  were  deli- 
*  See  Urquhart's  "  Pillars  of  Hercules,"  b.  iii.,  c.  8. 


Court  of  the  Myrtles  (Arrayanes)  or 
Basin  (Alberca),  or,  more  correctly, 
Berkah  (Blessing}. 


palace  of  tbc  2Ubamt>ra  69 

cately  pencilled  with  brilliant  colors,  such  as  vermilion 
and  lapis  lazuli,  laid  on  with  the  whites  of  eggs.  The 
primitive  colors  alone  were  used,  says  Ford,  by  the 
Egyptians,  Greeks,  and  Arabs,  in  the  early  period  of 
art ;  and  they  prevail  in  the  Alhambra  whenever  the 
artist  has  been  Arabic  or  Moorish.  It  is  remarkable 
how  much  of  their  original  brilliancy  remains  after 
the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 

The  lower  part  of  the  walls  in  the  saloons,  to  the 
height  of  several  feet,  is  incrusted  with  glazed  tiles, 
joined  like  the  plates  of  stucco-work,  so  as  to  form 
various  patterns.  On  some  of  them  are  emblazoned 
the  escutcheons  of  the  Moslem  kings,  traversed  with 
a  band  and  motto.  These  glazed  tiles  (aztilejos  in 
Spanish,  az-zulaj  in  Arabic)  are  of  Oriental  origin  ; 
their  coolness,  cleanliness,  and  freedom  from  vermin 
render  them  admirably  fitted  in  sultry  climates  for 
paving  halls  and  fountains,  incrusting  bathing-rooms, 
and  lining  the  walls  of  chambers.  Ford  is  inclined 
to  give  them  great  antiquity.  From  their  prevailing 
colors,  sapphire  and  blue,  he  deduces  that  they  may 
have  formed  the  kind  of  pavements  alluded  to  in  the 
sacred  Scriptures  :  "  There  was  under  his  feet  as  it 
were  a  paved  work  of  a  sapphire  stone  "  (Exod.  xxiv., 
10)  ;  and  again,  "Behold  I  will  lay  thy  stones  with 
fair  colors,  and  lay  thy  foundations  with  sapphires  " 
(Isaiah  liv.,  n). 

These  glazed  or  porcelain  tiles  were  introduced  into 
Spain  at  an  early  date  by  the  Moslems.  Some  are  to 
be  seen  among  the  Moorish  ruins  which  have  been 
there  upwards  of  eight  centuries.  Manufactures  of 
them  still  exist  in  the  Peninsula,  and  they  are  much 
used  in  the  best  Spanish  houses,  especially  in  the 


southern  provinces,  for  paving  and  lining  the  summer 
apartments. 

The  Spaniards  introduced  them  into  the  Netherlands 
when  they  had  possession  of  that  country.  The  peo- 
ple of  Holland  adopted  them  with  avidity,  as  wonder- 
fully suited  to  their  passion  for  household  cleanliness; 
and  thus  these  Oriental  inventions,  the  azulejos  of  the 
Spanish,  the  az-zulaj  of  the  Arabs,  have  come  to  be 
commonly  known  as  Dutch  tiles. 


•(Important  Ifteaotiations.  —  Ube  Hutbor 
Succeeos  to  tbe  TEbrone  of  BoaboU. 

THE  day  was  nearly  spent  before  we  could 
tear  ourself  from  this  region  of  poetry 
and  romance  to  descend  to  the  city  and 
return  to  the  forlorn  realities  of  a  Spanish 
Posada.  In  a  visit  of  ceremony  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Alhambra,  to  whom  we  had 
brought  letters,  we  dwelt  with  enthusiasm  on 
the  scenes  we  had  witnessed,  and  could  not 
but  express  surprise  that  he  should  reside  in 
the  city  when  he  had  such  a  paradise  at  his 
command.  He  pleaded  the  inconvenience  of  a 
residence  in  the  palace  from  its  situation  on 
the  crest  of  a  hill,  distant  from  the  seat  of 
business  and  the  resorts  of  social  intercourse. 
It  did  very  well  for  monarchs,  who  often  had 
need  of  castle  walls  to  defend  them  from  their 
own  subjects.  "  But,  senors,"  added  he,  smil- 
ing, "  if  you  think  a  residence  there  so  desira- 
ble, my  apartments  in  the  Alhambra  are  at 
your  service." 


72  Ube  Slbambra 

It  is  a  common  and  almost  indispensable 
point  of  politeness  in  a  Spaniard,  to  tell  you 
his  house  is  yours.  "  Rsta  casa  es  siempre  a 
la  disposicion  de  Vm. " — "  This  house  is  always 
at  the  command  of  your  Grace. ' '  In  fact,  any- 
thing of  his  which  you  admire,  is  immediately 
offered  to  you.  It  is  equally  a  mark  of  good 
breeding  in  you  not  to  accept  it ;  so  we  merely 
bowed  our  acknowledgments  of  the  courtesy  of 
the  Governor  in  offering  us  a  royal  palace.  We 
were  mistaken,  however.  The  Governor  was 
in  earnest.  "  You  will  find  a  rambling  set  of 
empty,  unfurnished  rooms, ' '  said  he  ;  ' '  but 
Tia  Antonia,  who  has  charge  of  the  palace, 
may  be  able  to  put  them  in  some  kind  of  order, 
and  to  take  care  of  you  while  you  are  there. 
If  you  can  make  any  arrangement  with  her  for 
your  accommodation,  and  are  content  with 
scanty  fare  in  a  royal  abode,  the  palace  of  King 
Chico  is  at  your  service." 

We  took  the  Governor  at  his  word,  and 
hastened  up  the  steep  Calle  de  los  Gomeres, 
and  through  the  Great  Gate  of  Justice,  to 
negotiate  with  Dame  Antonia, — doubting  at 
times  if  this  were  not  a  dream,  and  fearing 
at  times  that  the  sage  Duena  of  the  fortress 
might  be  slow  to  capitulate.  We  knew  we 
had  one  friend  at  least  in  the  garrison  who 
would  be  in  our  favor,  the  bright-eyed  little 


Important  negotiations 


73 


Dolores,  whose  good  graces  we  had  propitiated 
on  our  first  visit,  and  who  hailed  our  return 
to  the  palace  with  her  brightest  looks. 

All,  however,  went  smoothly.  The  good 
Tia  Antonia  had  a  little  furniture  to  put  in  the 
rooms,  but  it  was  of  the  commonest  kind.  We 
assured  her  we  could  bivouac  on  the  floor. 
She  could  supply  our  table,  but  only  in  her 
own  simple  way  ; — we  wanted  nothing  better. 
Her  niece,  Dolores,  would  wait  upon  us  ;  and 
at  the  word  we  threw  up  our  hats  and  the 
bargain  was  complete. 

The  very  next  day  we  took  up  our  abode  in 
the  palace,  and  never  did  sovereigns  share  a 
divided  throne  with  more  perfect  harmony. 
Several  days  passed  by  like  a  dream,  when  my 
worthy  associate,  being  summoned  to  Madrid 
on  diplomatic  duties,  was  compelled  to  abdi- 
cate, leaving  me  sole  monarch  of  this  shadowy 
realm.  For  myself,  being  in  a  manner  a  hap- 
hazard loiterer  about  the  world,  and  prone  to 
linger  in  its  pleasant  places,  here  have  I  been 
suffering  day  by  day  to  steal  away  unheeded, 
spellbound,  for  aught  I  know,  in  this  old  en- 
chanted pile.  Having  always  a  companionable 
feeling  for  my  reader,  and  being  prone  to  live 
with  him  on  confidential  terms,  I  shall  make  it 
a  point  to  communicate  to  him  my  reveries  and 
researches  during  this  state  of  delicious  thral- 


74 


Blbambra 


dom.  If  they  have  the  power  of  imparting  to 
his  imagination  any  of  the  witching  charms  of 
the  place,  he  will  not  repine  at  lingering  with 
me  for  a  season  in  the  legendary  halls  of  the 
Alhambra. 

And  first  it  is  proper  to  give  him  some  idea 
of  my  domestic  arrangements  ;  they  are  rather 
of  a  simple  kind  for  the  occupant  of  a  regal 
palace ;  but  I  trust  they  will  be  less  liable  to 
disastrous  reverses  than  those  of  my  royal 
predecessors. 

My  quarters  are  at  one  end  of  the  Governor's 
apartment,  a  suite  of  empty  chambers,  in  front 
of  the  palace,  looking  out  upon  the  great  espla- 
nade called  la  Plaza  de  los  Algibes  (the  Place  of 
the  Cisterns);  the  apartment  is  modern,  but  the 
end  opposite  to  my  sleeping-room  communi- 
cates with  a  cluster  of  little  chambers,  partly 
Moorish,  partly  Spanish,  allotted  to  the  chdte- 
laine  Dona  Antonia  and  her  family.  In  con- 
sideration of  keeping  the  palace  in  order,  the 
good  dame  is  allowed  all  the  perquisites  re- 
ceived from  visitors,  and  all  the  produce  of  the 
gardens,  excepting  that  she  is  expected  to  pay 
an  occasional  tribute  of  fruits  and  flowers  to  the 
Governor.  Her  family  consists  of  a  nephew 
and  niece,  the  children  of  two  different  brothers. 
The  nephew,  Manuel  Molina,  is  a  young  man 
of  sterling  worth  and  Spanish  gravity.  He 


flmportant  "Negotiations 


75 


had  served  in  the  army,  both  in  Spain  and  the 
West  Indies,  but  is  now  studying  medicine  in 
the  hope  of  one  day  or  other  becoming  physi- 
cian to  the  fortress,  a  post  worth  at  least  one 
hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year.  The  niece  is 
the  plump  little  black-eyed  Dolores  already 
mentioned,  and  who,  it  is  said,  will  one  day  in- 
herit all  her  aunt's  possessions,  consisting  of 
certain  petty  tenements  in  the  fortress,  in  a 
somewhat  ruinous  condition  it  is  true,  but 
which,  I  am  privately  assured  by  Mateo 
Ximenes,  yield  a  revenue  of  nearly  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars ;  so  that  she  is  quite  an 
heiress  in  the  eyes  of  the  ragged  son  of  the  Al- 
hambra.  I  am  also  informed  by  the  same 
observant  and  authentic  personage,  that  a  quiet 
courtship  is  going  on  between  the  discreet 
Manuel  and  his  bright-eyed  cousin,  and  that 
nothing  is  wanting  to  enable  them  to  join  their 
hands  and  expectations  but  his  doctor's  di- 
ploma, and  a  dispensation  from  the  Pope  on 
account  of  their  consanguinity. 

The  good  dame  Antonia  fulfils  faithfully  her 
contract  in  regard  to  my  board  and  lodging, 
and  as  I  am  easily  pleased  I  find  my  fare  excel- 
lent ;  while  the  merry-hearted  little  Dolores 
keeps  my  apartment  in  order,  and  officiates  as 
handmaid  at  meal -times  I  have  also  at  my 
command  a  tall,  stuttering,  yellow-haired  lad, 


Blbambra 


named  Pepe,  who  works  in  the  gardens,  and 
would  fain  have  acted  as  valet,  but  in  this  he 
was  forestalled  by  Mateo  Ximenes,  the  "son 
of  the  Alhambra."  This  alert  and  officious 
wight  has  managed,  somehow  or  other,  to  stick 
by  me  ever  since  I  first  encountered  him  at  the 
outer  gate  of  the  fortress,  and  to  weave  himself 
into  all  my  plans,  until  he  has  fairly  appointed 
and  installed  himself  my  valet,  cicerone,  guide, 
guard,  and  historiographic  squire,  and  I  have 
been  obliged  to  improve  the  state  of  his  ward- 
robe, that  he  may  not  disgrace  his  various 
functions ;  so  that  he  has  cast  his  old  brown 
mantle,  as  a  snake  does  his  skin,  and  now  ap- 
pears about  the  fortress  with  a  smart  Anda- 
lusian  hat  and  jacket,  to  his  infinite  satisfaction, 
and  the  great  astonishment  of  his  comrades. 
The  chief  fault  of  honest  Mateo  is  an  over- 
anxiety  to  be  useful.  Conscious  of  having 
foisted  himself  into  my  employ,  and  that  my 
simple  and  quiet  habits  render  his  situation  a 
sinecure,  he  is  at  his  wit 'sends  to  devise  modes 
of  making  himself  important  to  my  welfare.  I 
am  in  a  manner  the  victim  of  his  officiousness  ; 
I  cannot  put  my  foot  over  the  threshold  of  the 
palace,  to  stroll  about  the  fortress,  but  he  is  at 
my  elbow,  to  explain  everything  I  see  ;  and  if 
I  venture  to  ramble  among  the  surrounding 
hills,  he  insists  upon  attending  me  as  a  guard, 


m 


Important  negotiations 


77 


though  I  vehemently  suspect  he  would  be  more 
apt  to  trust  to  the  length  of  his  legs  than  the 
strength  of  his  arms,  in  case  of  attack.  After 
all,  however,  the  poor  fellow  is  at  times  an 
amusing  companion  ;  he  is  simple-minded  and 
of  infinite  good  humor,  with  the  loquacity  and 
gossip  of  a  village  barber,  and  knows  all  the 
small-talk  of  the  place  and  its  environs ;  but 
what  he  chiefly  values  himself  on  is  his  stock 
of  local  information,  having  the  most  marvel- 
lous stories  to  relate  of  every  tower,  and  vault, 
and  gateway  of  the  fortress,  in  all  of  which  he 
places  the  most  implicit  faith. 

Most  of  these  he  has  derived,  according  to 
his  own  account,  from  his  grandfather,  a  little 
legendary  tailor,  who  lived  to  the  age  of  nearly 
a  hundred  years,  during  which  he  made  but 
two  migrations  beyond  the  precincts  of  the 
fortress.  His  shop,  for  the  greater  part  of  a 
century,  was  the  resort  of  a  knot  of  venerable 
gossips,  where  they  would  pass  half  the  night 
talking  about  old  times,  and  the  wonderful 
events  and  hidden  secrets  of  the  place.  The 
whole  living,  moving,  thinking,  and  acting  of 
this  historical  little  tailor  had  thus  been  bounded 
by  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra  ;  within  them  he 
had  been  born,  within  them  he  lived,  breathed, 
and  had  his  being ;  within  them  he  died  and 
was  buried.  Fortunately  for  posterity  his  tra- 


SIbambra 


ditionary  lore  died  not  with  him.  The  authen- 
tic Mateo,  when  an  urchin,  used  to  be  an 
attentive  listener  to  the  narratives  of  .his  grand- 
father, and  of  the  gossiping  group  assembled 
round  the  shopboard,  and  is  thus  possessed  of 
a  stock  of  valuable  knowledge  concerning  the 
Alhambra,  not  to  be  found  in  books,  and  well 
worthy  the  attention  of  every  curious  traveller. 

Such  are  the  personages  that  constitute  my 
regal  household  ;  and  I  question  whether  any 
of  the  potentates,  Moslem  or  Christian,  who 
have  preceded  me  in  the  palace,  have  been 
waited  upon  with  greater  fidelity,  or  enjoyed  a 
serener  sway. 

When  I  rise  in  the  morning,  Pepe,  the  stut- 
tering lad  from  the  gardens,  brings  me  a  tribute 
of  fresh-culled  flowers,  which  are  afterwards 
arranged  in  vases  by  the  skilful  hand  of  Dolores, 
who  takes  a  feminine  pride  in  the  decoration  of 
my  chambers.  My  meals  are  made  wherever 
caprice  dictates  ;  sometimes  in  one  of  the  Moor- 
ish halls,  sometimes  under  the  arcades  of  the 
Court  of  lyions,  surrounded  by  flowers  and 
fountains ;  and  when  I  walk  out  I  am  con- 
ducted by  the  assiduous  Mateo  to  the  most 
romantic  retreats  of  the  mountains,  and  de- 
licious haunts  of  the  adjacent  valleys,  not  one 
of  which  but  is  the  scene  of  some  wonderful 
tale. 


important  negotiations 


79 


Though  fond  of  passing  the  greater  part  of 
my  day  alone,  yet  I  occasionally  repair  in  the 
evenings  to  the  little  domestic  circle  of  Doiia 
Antonia.  This  is  generally  held  in  an  old 
Moorish  chamber,  which  serves  the  good  dame 
for  parlor,  kitchen,  and  hall  of  audience,  and 
which  must  have  boasted  of  some  splendor  in 
the  time  of  the  Moors,  if  we  may  judge  from 
the  traces  yet  remaining  ;  but  a  rude  fireplace 
has  been  made  in  modern  times  in  one  corner, 
the  smoke  from  which  has  discolored  the  walls 
and  almost  obliterated  the  ancient  arabesques. 
A  window,  with  a  balcony  overhanging  the 
valley  of  the  Darro,  lets  in  the  cool  evening 
breeze ;  and  here  I  take  my  frugal  supper  of 
fruit  and  milk,  and  mingle  with  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  family.  There  is  a  natural  talent  or 
mother-wit,  as  it  is  called,  about  the  Spaniards, 
which  renders  them  intellectual  and  agreeable 
companions,  whatever  may  be  their  condition 
in  life,  or  however  imperfect  may  have  been 
their  education ;  add  to  this,  they  are  never 
vulgar  ;  nature  has  endowed  them  with  an  in- 
herent dignity  of  spirit.  The  good  Tia  An- 
tonia is  a  woman  of  strong  and  intelligent, 
though  uncultivated  mind  ;  and  the  bright-eyed 
Dolores,  though  she  has  read  but  three  or  four 
books  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life,  has  an 
engaging  mixture  of  naivete  and  good  sense, 


8o 


Slbambra 


and  often  surprises  me  by  the  pungency  of  her 
artless  sallies.  Sometimes  the  nephew  enter- 
tains us  by  reading  some  old  comedy  of  Calde- 
ron  or  Lope  de  Vega,  to  which  he  is  evidently 
prompted  by  a  desire  to  improve  as  well  as 
amuse  his  cousin  Dolores  ;  though,  to  his  great 
mortification,  the  little  damsel  generally  falls 
asleep  before  the  first  act  is  completed.  Some- 
times Tia  Antonia  has  a  little  levee  of  humble 
friends  and  dependants,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
adjacent  hamlet,  or  the  wives  of  the  invalid 
soldiers.  These  look  up  to  her  with  great 
deference,  as  the  custodian  of  the  palace,  and 
pay  their  court  to  her  by  bringing  the  news  of 
the  place,  or  the  rumors  that  may  have  strag- 
gled up  from  Granada.  In  listening  to  these 
evening  gossipings  I  have  picked  up  many 
curious  facts  illustrative  of  the  manners  of  the 
people  and  the  peculiarities  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

These  are  simple  details  of  simple  pleasures ; 
it  is  the  nature  of  the  place  alone  that  gives 
them  interest  and  importance.  I  tread  haunted 
ground,  and  am  surrounded  by  romantic  asso- 
ciations. From  earliest  boyhood,  when,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson,  I  first  pored  over  the 
pages  of  old  Gines  Perez  de  Hytas'  apocryphal 
but  chivalresque  history  of  the  civil  wars  of 
Granada,  and  the  feuds  of  its  gallant  cavaliers, 


Important  "Negotiations 

the  Zegries  and  Abencerrages,  that  city  has 
ever  been  a  subject  of  my  waking  dreams  ;  and 
often  have  I  trod  in  fancy  the  romantic  halls 
of  the  Alhambra.  Behold  for  once  a  day-dream 
realized ;  yet  I  can  scarce  credit  my  senses,  or 
believe  that  I  do  indeed  inhabit  the  palace  of 
Boabdil,  and  look  down  from  its  balconies  upon 
chivalric  Granada.  As  I  loiter  through  these 
Oriental  chambers,  and  hear  the  murmur  of 
fountains  and  the  song  of  the  nightingale  ;  as  I 
inhale  the  odor  of  the  rose,  and  feel  the  influ- 
ence of  the  balmy  climate,  I  am  almost  tempted 
to  fancy  myself  in  the  paradise  of  Mahomet, 
and  that  the  plump  little  Dolores  is  one  of  the 
bright-eyed  houries,  destined  to  administer  to 
the  happiness  of  true  believers. 


^ss^s 


Unbabitants  of  tbe  Hlbambra. 

I    HAVE    often    observed    that    the    more 
proudly  a  mansion  has  been  tenanted  in 
the  day  of  its  prosperity,  the  humbler  are 
its  inhabitants  in  the  day  of  its  decline,  and 
that  the  palace  of  a  king  commonly  ends  in 
being  the  nestling-place  of  the  beggar. 

The  Alhambra  is  in  a  rapid  state  of  similar 
transition.  Whenever  a  tower  falls  to  decay, 
it  is  seized  upon  by  some  tatterdemalion 
family,  who  become  joint- tenants,  with  the 
bats  and  owls,  of  its  gilded  halls  ;  and  hang 
their  rags,  those  standards  of  poverty,  out  of 
its  windows  and  loopholes. 

I  have  amused  myself  with  remarking  some 
of  the  motley  characters  that  have  thus 
usurped  the  ancient  abode  of  royalty,  and  who 
seem  as  if  placed  here  to  give  a  farcical  termi- 
nation to  the  drama  of  human  pride.  One  of 
these  even  bears  the  mockery  of  a  regal  title. 
It  is  a  little  old  woman  named  Maria  Antonia 


Puerto,    del    Vino,    in    the  Plaza    de   los 
Algibes,  Alkambra. 


flnbabttants  of  tbc  Blbambra 


Sabonea,  but  who  goes  by  the  appellation  of  la 
Reyna  Coquina,  or  the  Cockle-queen.  She  is 
small  enough  to  be  a  fairy ;  and  a  fairy  she 
may  be  for  aught  I  can  find  out,  for  no  one 
seems  to  know  her  origin.  Her  habitation  is 
in  a  kind  of  closet  under  the  outer  staircase  of 
the  palace,  and  she  sits  in  the  cool  stone  corri- 
dor, plying  her  needle  and  singing  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  with  a  ready  joke  for  every  one 
that  passes  ;  for  though  one  of  the  poorest,  she 
is  one  of  the  merriest  little  women  breathing. 
Her  great  merit  is  a  gift  for  story-telling, 
having,  I  verily  believe,  as  many  stories  at  her 
command  as  the  inexhaustible  Scheherezade  of 
the  Thousand  and  One  Nights.  Some  of  these 
I  have  heard  her  relate  in  the  evening  tertulias 
of  Dame  Antonia,  at  which  she  is  occasionally 
a  humble  attendant. 

That  there  must  be  some  fairy  gift  about  this 
mysterious  little  old  woman,  would  appear  from 
her  extraordinary  luck,  since,  notwithstanding 
her  being  very  little,  very  ugly,  and  very  poor, 
she  has  had,  according  to  her  own  account,  five 
husbands  and  a  half,  reckoning  as  a  half  one  a 
young  dragoon,  who  died  during  courtship.  A 
rival  personage  to  this  little  fairy  queen  is  a 
portly  old  fellow  with  a  bottle-nose,  who  goes 
about  in  a  rusty  garb,  with  a  cocked  hat  of  oil- 
skin and  a  red  cockade.  He  is  one  of  the  legiti- 


Slbambra 


mate  sons  of  the  Alhambra,  and  has  lived 
here  all  his  life,  filling  various  offices,  such  as 
deputy  alguazil,  sexton  of  the  parochial  church, 
and  marker  of  a  fives-court,  established  at  the 
foot  of  one  of  the  towers.  He  is  as  poor  as  a 
rat,  but  as  proud  as  he  is  ragged,  boasting  of 
his  descent  from  the  illustrious  house  of  Agui- 
lar,  from  which  sprang  Gonzalvo  of  Cordova, 
the  grand  captain.  Nay,  he  actually  bears  the 
name  of  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  so  renowned  in  the 
history  of  the  Conquest  ;  though  the  graceless 
wags  of  the  fortress  have  given  him  the  title  of 
el  padre  santo,  or  the  holy  father,  the  usual  ap- 
pellation of  the  Pope,  which  I  had  thought  too 
sacred  in  the  eyes  of  true  Catholics  to  be  thus 
ludicrously  applied.  It  is  a  whimsical  caprice 
of  fortune  to  present,  in  the  grotesque  person  of 
this  tatterdemalion,  a  namesake  and  descend- 
ant of  the  proud  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the  mirror 
of  Andalusian  chivalry,  leading  an  almost  men- 
dicant existence  about  this  once  haughty  for- 
tress, which  his  ancestor  aided  to  reduce  ;  yet 
such  might  have  been  the  lot  of  the  descend- 
ants of  Agamemnon  and  Achilles,  had  they 
lingered  about  the  ruins  of  Troy  ! 

Of  this  motley  community,  I  find  the  family 
of  my  gossiping  squire,  Mateo  Ximenes,  to 
form,  from  their  numbers  at  least,  a  very  im- 
portant part.  His  boast  of  being  a  son  of  the 


Ifnbabitantg  of  tbc  Blbambra  85 

Alhambra  is  not  unfounded.  His  family  has 
inhabited  the  fortress  ever  since  the  time  of  the 
Conquest,  handing  down  an  hereditary  poverty 
from  father  to  son  ;  not  one  of  them  having 
ever  been  known  to  be  worth  a  maravedi.  His 
father,  by  trade  a  ribbon-weaver,  and  who  suc- 
ceeded the  historical  tailor  as  the  head  of  the 
family,  is  now  near  seventy  years  of  age,  and 
lives  in  a  hovel  of  reeds  and  plaster,  built  by 
his  own  hands,  just  above  the  iron  gate.  The 
furniture  consists  of  a  crazy  bed,  a  table,  and 
two  or  three  chairs  ;  a  wooden  chest,  contain- 
ing, besides  his  scanty  clothing,  the  "  archives 
of  the  family."  These  are  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  the  papers  of  various  lawsuits  sus- 
tained by  different  generations  ;  by  which  it 
would  seem  that,  with  all  their  apparent  care- 
lessness and  good  humor,  they  are  a  litigious 
brood.  Most  of  the  suits  have  been  brought 
against  gossiping  neighbors  for  questioning  the 
purity  of  their  blood,  and  denying  their  being 
Christianas  viejos ;  i.e.  old  Christians,  without 
Jewish  or  Moorish  taint.  In  fact,  I  doubt 
whether  this  jealousy  about  their  blood  has  not 
kept  them  so  poor  in  purse  :  spending  all  their 
earnings  on  escribanos  and  alguazils.  The 
pride  of  the  hovel  is  an  escutcheon  suspended 
against  the  wall,  in  which  are  emblazoned 
quarterings  of  the  arms  of  the  Marquis  of  Caie- 


86 


Blbambra 


sedo,  and  of  various  other  noble  houses,  with 
which  this  poverty-stricken  brood  claim 
affinity. 

As  to  Mateo  himself,  who  is  now  about 
thirty-five  years  of  age,  he  has  done  his  utmost 
to  perpetuate  his  line  and  continue  the  poverty 
of  the  family,  having  a  wife  and  a  numerous 
progeny,  who  inhabit  an  almost  dismantled 
hovel  in  the  hamlet.  How  they  manage  to 
subsist,  He  only  who  sees  into  all  mysteries  can 
tell ;  the  subsistence  of  a  Spanish  family  of  the 
kind  is  always  a  riddle  to  me ;  yet  they  do  sub- 
sist, and,  what  is  more,  appear  to  enjoy  their 
existence.  The  wife  takes  her  holiday  stroll 
on  the  Paseo  of  Granada,  with  a  child  in  her 
arms  and  half  a  dozen  at  her  heels  ;  and  the 
eldest  daughter,  now  verging  into  womanhood, 
dresses  her  hair  with  flowers,  and  dances  gayly 
to  the  castanets. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  life 
seems  one  long  holiday,  the  very  rich  and  the 
very  poor  :  one,  because  they  need  do  nothing  ; 
the  other,  because  they  have  nothing  to  do  ; 
but  there  are  none  who  understand  the  art  of 
doing  nothing  and  living  upon  nothing,  better 
than  the  poor  classes  of  Spain.  Climate  does 
one  half,  and  temperament  the  rest.  Give  a 
Spaniard  the  shade  in  summer  and  the  sun  in 
winter,  a  little  bread,  garlic,  oil,  and  garbances, 


•ffnbabitants  of  tbe  Blbambra  87 

an  old  brown  cloak  and  a  guitar,  and  let  the 
world  roll  on  as  it  pleases.  Talk  of  poverty  ! 
with  him  it  has  no  disgrace.  It  sits  upon  him 
with  a  grandiose  style,  like  his  ragged  cloak. 
He  is  a  hidalgo,  even  when  in  rags. 

The  "sons  of  the  Alhambra  "  are  an  emi- 
nent illustration  of  this  practical  philosophy. 
As  the  Moors  imagined  that  the  celestial  para- 
dise hung  over  this  favored  spot,  so  I  am 
inclined  at  times  to  fancy  that  a  gleam  of  the 
golden  age  still  lingers  about  this  ragged 
community.  They  possess  nothing,  they  do 
nothing,  they  care  for  nothing.  Yet,  though 
apparently  idle  all  the  week,  they  are  as 
observant  of  all  holy  days  and  saints'  days 
as  the  most  laborious  artisan.  They  attend 
all  f£tes  and  dancings  in  Granada  and  its 
vicinity,  light  bonfires  on  the  hills  on  St. 
John's  eve,  and  dance  away  the  moonlight 
nights  on  the  harvest-home  of  a  small  field 
within  the  precincts  of  the  fortress,  which 
yield  a  few  bushels  of  wheat. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks,  I  must 
mention  one  of  the  amusements  of  the  place, 
which  has  particularly  struck  me.  I  had  re- 
peatedly observed  a  long  lean  fellow  perched 
on  the  top  of  one  of  the  towers,  manoeuvring 
two  or  three  fishing-rods,  as  though  he  were 
angling  for  the  stars.  I  was  for  some  time 


Slbambta 


perplexed  by  the  evolutions  of  this  aerial  fish- 
erman, and  my  perplexity  increased  on  ob- 
serving others  employed  in  like  manner  on 
different  parts  of  the  battlements  and  bastions  ; 
it  was  not  until  I  consulted  Mateo  Ximenes 
that  I  solved  the  mystery. 

It  seems  that  the  pure  and  airy  situation 
of  this  fortress  has  rendered  it,  like  the  castle 
of  Macbeth,  a  prolific  breeding-place  for  swal- 
lows and  martlets,  who  sport  about  its  towers 
in  myriads,  with  the  holiday  glee  of  urchins 
just  let  loose  from  school.  To  entrap  these 
birds  in  their  giddy  circlings,  with  hooks 
baited  with  flies,  is  one  of  the  favorite  amuse- 
ments of  the  ragged  "sons  of  the  Alhambra," 
who,  with  the  good-for-nothing  ingenuity  of 
arrant  idlers,  have  thus  invented  the  art  of 
angling  in  the  sky. 


1ball  of  Hmbassaoors. 


IN  one  of  my  visits  to  the  old  Moorish 
chamber  where  the  good  Tia  Antonia 
cooks  her  dinner  and  receives  her  com- 
pany, I  observed  a  mysterious  door  in  one 
corner,  leading  apparently  into  the  ancient 
part  of  the  edifice.  My  curiosity  being  aroused, 
I  opened  it,  and  found  myself  in  a  narrow, 
blind  corridor,  groping  along  which  I  came  to 
the  head  of  a  dark  winding  staircase,  leading 
down  an  angle  of  the  Tower  of  Comares.  Down 
this  staircase  I  descended  darkling,  guiding 
myself  by  the  wall  until  I  came  to  a  small 
door  at  the  bottom,  throwing  which  open,  I 
was  suddenly  dazzled  by  emerging  into  the 
brilliant  antechamber  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassa- 
dors ;  with  the  fountain  of  the  Court  of  the 
Alberca  sparkling  before  me.  The  antecham- 
ber is  separated  from  the  court  by  an  elegant 
gallery,  supported  by  slender  columns  with 
spandrels  of  open  work  in  the  Morisco  style. 


Blbambra 


At  each  end  of  the  antechamber  are  alcoves, 
and  its  ceiling  is  richly  stuccoed  and  painted. 
Passing  through  a  magnificent  portal,  I  found 
myself  in  the  far-famed  Hall  of  Ambassadors, 
the  audience  chamber  of  the  Moslem  monarchs. 
It  is  said  to  be  thirty-seven  feet  square,  and 
sixty  feet  high  ;  occupies  the  whole  interior  of 
the  Tower  of  Comares ;  and  still  bears  the 
traces  of  past  magnificence.  The  walls  are 
beautifully  stuccoed  and  decorated  with  Mo- 
risco  fancifulness ;  the  lofty  ceiling  was  origi- 
nally of  the  same  favorite  material,  with  the 
usual  frostwork  and  pensile  ornaments  or  stal- 
actites ;  which,  with  the  embellishments  of 
vivid  coloring  and  gilding,  must  have  been 
gorgeous  in  the  extreme.  Unfortunately,  it 
gave  way  during  an  earthquake,  and  brought 
down  with  it  an  immense  arch  which  traversed 
the  hall.  It  was  replaced  by  the  present  vault 
or  dome  of  larch  or  cedar,  with  intersecting 
ribs,  the  whole  curiously  wrought  and  richly 
colored  ;  still  Oriental  in  its  character,  remind- 
ing one  of  ' '  those  ceilings  of  cedar  and  ver- 
milion that  we  read  of  in  the  Prophets  and  the 
Arabian  Nights."  * 

From  the  great  height  of  the  vault  above  the 
windows,  the  upper  part  of  the  hall  is  almost 
lost  in  obscurity ;  yet  there  is  a  magnificence 
*Urquhart's  "Pillars  of  Hercules." 


ttbe  trnll  of  ambassadors 


as  well  as  solemnity  in  the  gloom,  as  through 
it  we  have  gleams  of  rich  gilding  and  the  bril- 
liant tints  of  the  Moorish  pencil. 

The  royal  throne  was  placed  opposite  the 
entrance  in  a  recess,  which  still  bears  an  in- 
scription intimating  that  Yusef  I.  (the  monarch 
who  completed  the  Alhambra)  made  this  the 
throne  of  his  empire.  Everything  in  this  noble 
hall  seems  to  have  been  calculated  to  surround 
the  throne  with  impressive  dignity  and  splen- 
dor ;  there  was  none  of  the  elegant  voluptuous- 
ness which  reigns  in  other  parts  of  the  palace. 
The  tower  is  of  massive  strength,  domineering 
over  the  whole  edifice  and  overhanging  the 
steep  hillside.  On  three  sides  of  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors  are  windows  cut  through  the 
immense  thickness  of  the  walls  and  command- 
ing extensive  prospects.  The  balcony  of  the 
central  window  especially  looks  down  upon 
the  verdant  valley  of  the  Darro,  with  its  walks, 
its  groves,  and  gardens.  To  the  left  it  enjoys 
a  distant  prospect  of  the  Vega  ;  while  directly 
in  front  rises  the  rival  height  of  the  Albaycin, 
with  its  medley  of  streets,  and  terraces,  and 
gardens,  and  once  crowned  by  a  fortress  that 
vied  in  power  with  the  Alhambra.  ' '  111  fated 
the  man  who  lost  all  this  ! ' '  exclaimed  Charles 
V.,  as  he  looked  forth  from  this  window  upon 
the  enchanting  scenery  it  commands. 


92  Sbe  aibambra 

The  balcony  of  the  window  where  this  royal 
exclamation  was  made,  has  of  late  become  one 
of  my  favorite  resorts.  I  have  just  been  seated 
there,  enjoying  the  close  of  a  long  brilliant  day. 
The  sun,  as  he  sank  behind  the  purple  moun- 
tains of  Alhama,  sent  a  stream  of  effulgence 
up  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  that  spread  a 
melancholy  pomp  over  the  ruddy  towers  of  the 
Alhambra  ;  while  the  Vega,  covered  with  a 
slight  sultry  vapor  that  caught  the  setting  ray, 
seemed  spread  out  in  the  distance  like  a  golden 
sea.  Not  a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  stillness 
of  the  hour,  and  though  the  faint  sound  of 
music  and  merriment  now  and  then  rose  from 
the  gardens  of  the  Darro,  it  but  rendered  more 
impressive  the  monumental  silence  of  the  pile 
which  overshadowed  me.  It  was  one  of  those 
hours  and  scenes  in  which  memory  asserts  an 
almost  magical  power ;  and,  like  the  evening 
sun  beaming  on  these  mouldering  towers,  sends 
back  her  retrospective  rays  to  light  up  the 
glories  of  the  past. 

As  I  sat  watching  the  effect  of  the  declining 
daylight  upon  this  Moorish  pile,  I  was  led 
into  a  consideration  of  the  light,  elegant,  and 
voluptuous  character  prevalent  throughout  its 
internal  architecture,  and  to  contrast  it  with 
the  grand  but  gloomy  solemnity  of  the  Gothic 
edifices  reared  by  the  Spanish  conquerors. 


Cbc  Tball  of  BmbassaDors 


93 


The  very  architecture  thus  bespeaks  the  oppo- 
site and  irreconcilable  natures  of  the  two  warlike 
people  who  so  long  battled  here  for  the  mastery 
of  the  Peninsula.  By  degrees  I  fell  into  a  course 
of  musing  upon  the  singular  fortunes  of  the 
Arabian  or  Morisco-Spaniards,  whose  whole 
existence  is  as  a  tale  that  is  told,  and  certainly 
forms  one  of  the  most  anomalous  yet  splendid 
episodes  in  history.  Potent  and  durable  as  was 
their  dominion,  we  scarcely  know  how  to  call 
them.  They  were  a  nation  without  a  legitimate 
country  or  name.  A  remote  wave  of  the  great 
Arabian  inundation,  cast  upon  the  shores  of 
Europe,  they  seem  to  have  all  the  impetus 
of  the  first  rush  of  the  torrent.  Their  career 
of  conquest,  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar  to  the 
cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  was  as  rapid  and  brilliant 
as  the  Moslem  victories  of  Syria  and  Egypt. 
Nay,  had  they  not  been  checked  on  the  plains 
of  Tours,  all  France,  all  Europe,  might  have 
been  overrun  with  the  same  facility  as  the 
empires  of  the  East,  and  the  Crescent  at  this 
day  have  glittered  on  the  fanes  of  Paris  and 
IvOndon. 

Repelled  within  the  limits  of  the  Pyrenees, 
the  mixed  hordes  of  Asia  and  Africa,  that 
formed  this  great  irruption,  gave  up  the 
Moslem  principle  of  conquest,  and  sought  to 
establish  in  Spain  a  peaceful  and  permanent 


94 


Blbambra 


dominion.  As  conquerors,  their  heroism  was 
only  equalled  by .  their  moderation  ;  and  in 
both,  for  a  time,  they  excelled  the  nations  with 
whom  they  contended.  Severed  from  their 
native  homes,  they  loved  the  land  given  them 
as  they  supposed  by  Allah,  and  strove  to  em- 
bellish it  with  everything  that  could  administer 
to  the  happiness  of  man.  Laying  the  founda- 
tions of  their  power  in  a  system  of  wise  and 
equitable  laws,  diligently  cultivating  the  arts 
and  sciences,  and  promoting  agriculture,  manu- 
factures, and  commerce,  they  gradually  formed 
an  empire  unrivalled  for  its  prosperity  by  any 
of  the  empires  of  Christendom  ;  and  diligently 
drawing  round  them  the  graces  and  refinements 
which  marked  the  Arabian  empire  of  the  Bast, 
at  the  time  of  its  greatest  civilization,  they 
diffused  the  light  of  Oriental  knowledge  through 
the  western  regions  of  benighted  Europe. 

The  cities  of  Arabian  Spain  became  the  resort 
of  Christian  artisans,  to  instruct  themselves  in 
the  useful  arts.  The  universities  of  Toledo, 
Cordova,  Seville,  and  Granada  were  sought  by 
the  pale  student  from  other  lands  to  acquaint 
himself  with  the  sciences  of  the  Arabs  and  the 
treasured  lore  of  antiquity ;  the  lovers  of  the 
gay  science  resorted  to  Cordova  and  Granada, 
to  imbibe  the  poetry  and  music  of  the  East ;  and 
the  steel-clad  warriors  of  the  North  hastened 


ZIbe  l)all  of  Smbaeaa&ors 


95 


thither  to  accomplish  themselves  in  the  graceful 
exercises  and  courteous  usages  of  chivalry. 

If  the  Moslem  monuments  in  Spain,  if  the 
Mosque  of  Cordova,  the  Alcazar  of  Seville,  and 
the  Alhambra  of  Granada,  still  bear  inscriptions 
fondly  boasting  of  the  power  and  permanancy 
of  their  dominion,  can  the  boast  be  derided  as 
arrogant  and  vain?  Generation  after  genera- 
tion, century  after  century,  passed  away,  and 
still  they  maintained  possession  of  the  land. 
A  period  elapsed  longer  than  that  which  has 
passed  since  England  was  subjugated  by  the 
Norman  Conqueror,  and  the  descendants  of 
Musa  and  Taric  might  as  little  anticipate  being 
driven  into  exile  across  the  same  straits, 
traversed  by  their  triumphant  ancestors,  as  the 
descendants  of  Rollo  and  William,  and  their 
veteran  peers,  may  dream  of  being  driven  back 
to  the  shores  of  Normandy. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  Moslem  empire 
in  Spain  was  but  a  brilliant  exotic,  that  took 
no  permanent  root  in  the  soil  it  embellished. 
Severed  from  all  their  neighbors  in  the  West 
by  impassable  barriers  of  faith  and  manners, 
and  separated  by  seas  and  deserts  from  their 
kindred  of  the  East,  the  Morisco-Spaniards 
were  an  isolated  people.  Their  whole  existence 
was  a  prolonged,  though  gallant  and  chivalric, 
struggle  for  a  foothold  in  a  usurped  land. 


Slbambra 


They  were  the  outposts  and  frontiers  of 
Islamism.  The  Peninsula  was  the  great  bat- 
tle-ground where  the  Gothic  conquerors  of  the 
North  and  the  Moslem  conquerors  of  the  East 
met  and  strove  for  mastery ;  and  the  fiery 
courage  of  the  Arab  was  at  length  subdued 
by  the  obstinate  and  persevering  valor  of  the 
Goth. 

Never  was  the  annihilation  of  a  people  more 
complete  than  that  of  the  Morisco-Spaniards. 
Where  are  they  ?  Ask  the  shores  of  Barbary 
and  its  desert  places.  The  exiled  remnant  of 
their  once  powerful  empire  disappeared  among 
the  barbarians  of  Africa,  and  ceased  to  be  a  na- 
tion. They  have  not  even  left  a  distinct  name 
behind  them,  though  for  nearly  eight  centuries 
they  were  a  distinct  people.  The  home  of  their 
adoption,  and  of  their  occupation  for  ages,  re- 
fuses to  acknowledge  them,  except  as  invaders 
and  usurpers.  A  few  broken  monuments  are 
all  that  remain  to  bear  witness  to  their  power 
and  dominion,  as  solitary  rocks,  left  far  in  the 
interior,  bear  testimony  to  the  extent  of  some 
vast  inundation.  Such  is  the  Alhambra  ; — a 
Moslem  pile  in  the  midst  of  a  Christian  land  ; 
an  Oriental  palace  amidst  the  Gothic  edifices 
of  the  West ;  an  elegant  memento  of  a  brave, 
intelligent,  and  graceful  people,  who  con- 
quered, ruled,  flourished,  and  passed  away. 


TTbe  Jesuits'  Xibrarp. 

SINCE  indulging  in  the  foregoing  reverie, 
my  curiosity  has  been  aroused  to  know 
something  of  the  princes  who  left  behind 
them  this  monument  of  Oriental  taste  and  mag- 
nificence,— and  whose  names  still  appear  among 
the  inscriptions  on  its  walls.  To  gratify  this 
curiosity,  I  have  descended  from  this  region  of 
fancy  and  fable,  where  everything  is  liable  to 
take  an  imaginary  tint,  and  have  carried  my 
researches  among  the  dusty  tomes  of  the  old 
Jesuits'  Library,  in  the  University.  This  once 
boasted  repository  of  erudition  is  now  a  mere 
shadow  of  its  former  self,  having  been  stripped 
of  its  manuscripts  and  rarest  works  by  the 
French,  when  masters  of  Granada  ;  still  it 
contains,  among  many  ponderous  tomes  of  the 
Jesuit  fathers,  which  the  French  were  careful 
to  leave  behind,  several  curious  tracts  of  Span- 
ish literature ;  and,  above  all,  a  number  of 
those  antiquated  parchment-bound  chronicles 
for  which  I  have  a  particular  veneration. 


9« 


aibambra 


In  this  old  library  I  have  passed  many 
delightful  hours  of  quiet,  undisturbed  literary 
foraging  ;  for  the  keys  of  the  doors  and  book- 
cases were  kindly  intrusted  to  me,  and  I  was 
left  alone,  to  rummage  at  my  pleasure, — a  rare 
indulgence  in  these  sanctuaries  of  learning, 
which  too  often  tantalize  the  thirsty  student 
with  the  sight  of  sealed  fountains  of  knowledge. 

In  the  course  of  these  visits  I  gleaned  a 
variety  of  facts  concerning  historical  characters 
connected  with  the  Alhambra,  some  of  which 
I  here  subjoin,  trusting  they  may  prove  accep- 
table to  the  reader. 


Hlbamar,  tbe  '3foun&cr  of  tbe 
Hlbambra. 

THE  Moors  of  Granada  regarded  the  Al- 
hambra  as  a  miracle  of  art,   and  had 
a  tradition  that  the  king  who  founded 
it  dealt  in  magic,  or  at  least  in  alchemy,  by 
means  whereof  he  procured  the  immense  sums 
of  gold  expended  in  its  erection.     A  brief  view 
of  his  reign  will  show  the  secret  of  his  wealth. 
He  is  known  in  Arabian  history  as  Muhamed 
Ibn-1-Ahmar ;  but  his  name  in  general  is  writ- 
ten simply  Alhamar,  and  was  given  to  him,  we 
are  told,  on  account  of  his  ruddy  complexion.* 
He  was  of  the  noble  and  opulent  line  of  the 
Beni  Nasar,  or  tribe  of  Nasar,  and  was  born  in 
Arjona,   in  the  year  of  the  Hegira  592  (A.D. 

*  Et  porque  era  muy  rubio  llainaban  lo  los  Moros 
Abenalhamar,  que  quiere  decir  bermejo  .  .  .  et 
porque  los  Moros  lo  llamaban  Benalhamar  que  quiere 
decir  bermejo  tomo  los  senales  bermejos,  segun  que 
los  ovieron  despues  los  Reyes  de  Granada. — Bleda, 
"  Cronica  de  Alfonso  XI.,"  p.  i.,  c.  44. 


aibambra 


1195)-  At  his  birth  the  astrologers,  we  are 
told,  cast  his  horoscope  according  to  Oriental 
custom,  and  pronounced  it  highly  auspicious ; 
and  a  santon  predicted  for  him  a  glorious 
career.  No  expense  was  spared  in  fitting  him 
for  the  high  destinies  prognosticated.  Before 
he  attained  the  full  years  of  manhood,  the 
famous  battle  of  the  Navas  (or  plains)  of 
Tolosa  shattered  the  Moorish  empire,  and 
eventually  severed  the  Moslems  of  Spain  from 
the  Moslems  of  Africa.  Factions  soon  arose 
among  the  former,  headed  by  warlike  chiefs 
ambitious  of  grasping  the  sovereignty  of  the 
Peninsula.  Alhamar  became  engaged  in  these 
wars ;  he  was  the  general  and  leader  of  the 
Beni  Nasar,  and,  as  such,  he  opposed  and 
thwarted  the  ambition  of  Aben  Hud,  who  had 
raised  his  standard  among  the  warlike  moun- 
tains of  the  Alpuxaras,  and  been  proclaimed 
king  of  Murcia  and  Granada.  Man3r  conflicts 
took  place  between  these  warring  chieftains ; 
Alhamar  dispossessed  his  rival  of  several  im- 
portant places,  and  was  proclaimed  king  of 
Jaen  by  his  soldiery  ;  but  he  aspired  to  the 
sovereignty  of  the  whole  of  Andalusia,  for  he 
was  of  a  sanguine  spirit  and  lofty  ambition. 
His  valor  and  generosity  went  hand  in  hand  ; 
what  he  gained  by  the  one  he  secured  by  the 
other ;  and  at  the  death  of  Aben  Hud  (A.D. 


Mihrab,  in    a    Little    Mosque,  near   the 
Palace  of  the  Alkambra. 


Blbamar,  tbc  jfounDer  of  tbe  Blbambra  101 


1238)  he  became  sovereign  of  all  the  territories 
which  owed  allegiance  to  that  powerful  chief. 
He  made  his  formal  entry  into  Granada  in  the 
same  year,  amid  the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the 
multitude,  who  hailed  him  as  the  only  one 
capable  of  uniting  the  various  factions  which 
prevailed,  and  which  threatened  to  lay  the 
empire  at  the  mercy  of  the  Christian  princes. 

Alhamar  established  his  court  in  Granada ; 
he  was  the  first  of  the  illustrious  line  of  Nasar 
that  sat  upon  a  throne.  He  took  immediate 
measures  to  put  his  little  kingdom  in  a  posture 
of  defence  against  the  assaults  to  be  expected 
from  his  Christian  neighbors,  repairing  and 
strengthening  the  frontier  posts  and  fortifying 
the  capital.  Not  content  with  the  provisions 
of  the  Moslem  law,  by  which  every  man  is 
made  a  soldier,  he  raised  a  regular  army  to 
garrison  his  strongholds,  allowing  every  soldier 
stationed  on  the  frontier  a  portion  of  land  for 
the  support  of  himself,  his  horse,  and  his  family, 
— thus  interesting  him  in  the  defence  of  the 
soil  in  which  he  had  a  property.  These  wise 
precautions  were  justified  by  events.  The 
Christians,  profiting  by  the  dismemberment  of 
the  Moslem  power,  were  rapidly  regaining  their 
ancient  territories.  James  the  Conqueror  had 
subjected  all  Valencia,  and  Ferdinand  the  Saint 
sat  down  in  person  before  Jaen,  the  bulwark  of 


STbe  aibambra 


Granada.  Alhamar  ventured  to  oppose  him  in 
open  field,  but  met  with  a  signal  defeat,  and  re- 
tired discomfited  to  his  capital.  Jaen  still  held 
out,  and  kept  the  enemy  at  bay  during  an  en- 
tire winter,  but  Ferdinand  swore  not  to  raise 
his  camp  until  he  had  gained  possession  of  the 
place.  Alhamar  found  it  impossible  to  throw 
reinforcements  into  the  besieged  city  ;  he  saw 
that  its  fall  must  be  followed  by  the  investment 
of  his  capital,  and  was  conscious  of  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  his  means  to  cope  with  the  potent 
sovereign  of  Castile.  Taking  a  sudden  resolu- 
tion, therefore,  he  repaired  privately  to  the 
Christian  camp,  made  his  unexpected  appear- 
ance in  the  presence  of  King  Ferdinand,  and 
frankly  announced  himself  as  the  king  of 
Granada.  "I  come,"  said  he,  "confiding  in 
your  good  faith,  to  put  myself  under  your  pro- 
tection. Take  all  I  possess  and  receive  me  as 
your  vassal "  ;  so  saying,  he  knelt  and  kissed 
the  king's  hand  in  token  of  allegiance. 

Ferdinand  was  won  by  this  instance  of  con- 
fiding faith,  and  determined  not  to  be  outdone 
in  generosity.  He  raised  his  late  enemy  from 
the  earth,  embraced  him  as  a  friend,  and,  refus- 
ing the  wealth  he  offered,  left  him  sovereign 
of  his  dominions,  under  the  feudal  tenure  of  a 
yearly  tribute,  attendance  at  the  Cortes  as  one 
of  the  nobles  of  the  empire,  and  service  in  war 


Blbamar,  tbe  jfoun&er  of  tbe  Blbambra 


103 


with  a  certain  number  of  horsemen .  He  more- 
over conferred  on  him  the  honor  of  knight- 
hood, and  armed  him  with  his  own  hands. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Alhamar  was 
called  upon  for  his  military  services,  to  aid 
King  Ferdinand  in  his  famous  siege  of  Seville. 
The  Moorish  king  sallied  forth  with  five  hun- 
dred chosen  horsemen  of  Granada,  than  whom 
none  in  the  world  knew  better  how  to  manage 
the  steed  or  wield  the  lance.  It  was  a  humili- 
ating service,  however,  for  they  had  to  draw 
the  sword  against  their  brethren  of  the  faith. 

Alhamar  gained  a  melancholy  distinction  by 
his  prowess  in  this  renowned  conquest,  but 
more  true  honor  by  the  humanity  which  he 
prevailed  upon  Ferdinand  to  introduce  into  the 
usages  of  war.  When  in  1248  the  famous  city 
of  Seville  surrendered  to  the  Castilian  monarch, 
Alhamar  returned  sad  and  full  of  care  to  his 
dominions.  He  saw  the  gathering  ills  that 
menaced  the  Moslem  cause  ;  and  uttered  an 
ejaculation  often  used  by  him  in  moments  of 
anxiety  and  trouble, — "How  straitened  and 
wretched  would  be  our  life,  if  our  hope  were 
not  so  spacious  and  extensive  !  "  "  Que  an- 
goste y  miserabile  seria  nuestra  vida,  sinofuera 
tan  dilatada  y  espaciosa  nuestra  esperanza  /  " 

As  he  approached  Granada  on  his  return  he 
beheld  arches  of  triumph  which  had  been 


Ebe  aibambra 

erected  in  honor  of  his  martial  exploits.  The 
people  thronged  forth  to  see  him  with  im- 
patient joy,  for  his  benignant  rule  had  won  all 
hearts.  Wherever  he  passed  he  was  hailed 
with  acclamations  as  "  El  Ghalib  !  "  (the  con- 
queror). Alhamar  gave  a  melancholy  shake 
of  the  head  on  hearing  the  appellation.  "  Wa 
le  ghalib  He  Aldh  ! ' '  (there  is  no  conqueror  but 
God)  exclaimed  he.  From  that  time  forward 
this  exclamation  became  his  motto,  and  the 
motto  of  his  descendants,  and  appears  to  this 
day  emblazoned  on  his  escutcheons  in  the  halls 
of  the  Alhambra. 

Alhamar  had  purchased  peace  by  submission 
to  the  Christian  yoke  ;  but  he  was  conscious 
that,  with  elements  so  discordant  and  motives 
for  hostility  so  deep  and  ancient,  it  could  not 
be  permanent.  Acting,  therefore,  upon  the  old 
maxim,  ' '  Arm  thyself  in  peace  and  clothe 
thyself  in  summer,"  he  improved  the  present 
interval  of  tranquillity  by  fortifying  his  do- 
minions, replenishing  his  arsenals,  and  pro- 
moting those  useful  arts  which  give  wealth  and 
real  power.  He  confided  the  command  of  his 
various  cities  to  such  as  had  distinguished 
themselves  by  valor  and  prudence,  and  who 
seemed  most  acceptable  to  the  people.  He 
organized  a  vigilant  police,  and  established 
rigid  rules  for  the  administration  of  justice. 


Blbamar,  tbe  ffounDer  of  tbe  Blbambra  105 


The  poor  and  the  distressed  always  found 
ready  admission  to  his  presence,  and  he  at- 
tended personally  to  their  assistance  and  re- 
dress. He  erected  hospitals  for  the  blind,  the 
aged,  and  infirm,  and  all  those  incapable  of 
labor,  and  visited  them  frequently  ;  not  on  set 
days  with  pomp  and  form,  so  as  to  give  time 
for  everything  to  be  put  in  order,  and  every 
abuse  concealed,  but  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly, informing  himself,  by  actual  observation 
and  close  inquiry,  of  the  treatment  of  the  sick, 
and  the  conduct  of  those  appointed  to  adminis- 
ter to  their  relief.  He  founded  schools  and 
colleges,  which  he  visited  in  the  same  manner, 
inspecting  personally  the  instruction  of  the 
youth.  He  established  butcheries  and  public 
ovens,  that  the  people  might  be  furnished  with 
wholesome  provisions  at  just  and  regular  prices. 
He  introduced  abundant  streams  of  water  into 
the  city,  erecting  baths  and  fountains,  and 
constructing  aqueducts  and  canals  to  irrigate 
and  fertilize  the  Vega.  By  these  means  pros- 
perity and  abundance  prevailed  in  this  beau- 
tiful city ;  its  gates  were  thronged  with 
commerce,  and  its  warehouses  filled  with 
luxuries  and  merchandise  of  every  clime  and 
country. 

He  moreover  gave  premiums  and  privileges 
to  the  best  artisans  ;  improved  the  breed  of 


horses  and  other  domestic  animals  ;  encouraged 
husbandry  ;  and  increased  the  natural  fertility 
of  the  soil  twofold  by  his  protection,  making 
the  lovely  valleys  of  his  kingdom  to  bloom  like 
gardens.  He  fostered  also  the  growth  and 
fabrication  of  silk,  until  the  looms  of  Granada 
surpassed  even  those  of  Syria  in  the  fineness 
and  beauty  of  their  productions.  He  moreover 
caused  the  mines  of  gold  and  silver  and  other 
metals,  found  in  the  mountainous  regions  of 
his  dominions,  to  be  diligently  worked,  and  was 
the  first  king  of  Granada  who  struck  money 
of  gold  and  silver  with  his  name,  taking  great 
care  that  the  coins  should  be  skilfully  executed. 

It  was  towards  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  just  after  his  return  from  the 
siege  of  Seville,  that  he  commenced  the  splen- 
did palace  of  the  Alhambra  ;  superintending 
the  building  of  it  in  person  ;  mingling  fre- 
quently among  the  artists  and  workmen,  and 
directing  their  labors. 

Though  thus  magnificent  in  his  works  and 
great  in  his  enterprises,  he  was  simple  in  his 
person  and  moderate  in  his  enjoyments.  His 
dress  was  not  merely  void  of  splendor,  but  so 
plain  as  not  to  distinguish  him  from  his  sub- 
jects. His  harem  boasted  but  few  beauties, 
and  these  he  visited  but  seldom,  though  they 
were  entertained  with  great  magnificence.  His 


Blbamar,  tbe  jfoun&er  of  tbe  Hlbambra  107 


wives  were  daughters  of  the  principal  nobles, 
and  were  treated  by  him  as  friends  and  rational 
companions.  What  is  more,  he  managed  to 
make  them  live  in  friendship  with  one  another. 
He  passed  much  of  his  time  in  his  gardens ; 
especially  in  those  of  the  Alhambra,  which  he 
had  stored  with  the  rarest  plants  and  the  most 
beautiful  and  aromatic  flowers.  Here  he  de- 
lighted himself  in  reading  histories,  or  in 
causing  them  to  be  read  and  related  to  him, 
and  sometimes,  in  intervals  of  leisure,  em- 
ployed himself  in  the  instruction  of  his  three 
sons,  for  whom  he  had  provided  the  most 
learned  and  virtuous  masters. 

As  he  had  frankly  and  voluntarily  offered 
himself  a  tributary  vassal  to  Ferdinand,  so  he 
always  remained  loyal  to  his  word,  giving  him 
repeated  proofs  of  fidelity  and  attachment. 
When  that  renowned  monarch  died  in  Seville 
in  1254,  Alhamar  sent  ambassadors  to  condole 
with  his  successor,  Alonzo  X.,  and  with  them 
a  gallant  train  of  a  hundred  Moorish  cavaliers 
of  distinguished  rank,  who  were  to  attend  round 
the  royal  bier  during  the  funeral  ceremonies, 
each  bearing  a  lighted  taper.  This  grand  testi- 
monial of  respect  was  repeated  by  the  Moslem 
monarch  during  the  remainder  of  his  life  on 
each  anniversary  of  the  death  of  King  Ferdi- 
nand el  Santo,  when  the  hundred  Moorish 


108 


{Ebe  aibambra 


knights  repaired  from  Granada  to  Seville,  and 
took  their  stations  with  lighted  tapers  in  the 
centre  of  the  sumptuous  cathedral  round  the 
cenotaph  of  the  illustrious  deceased. 

Alhamar  retained  his  faculties  and  vigor  to 
an  advanced  age.  In  his  seventy-ninth  year 
(A.D.  1272)  he  took  the  field  on  horseback, 
accompanied  by  the  flower  of  his  chivalry,  to 
resist  an  invasion  of  his  territories.  As  the 
army  sallied  forth  from  Granada,  one  of  the 
principal  adalides,  or  guides,  who  rode  in 
the  advance,  accidentally  broke  his  lance 
against  the  arch  of  the  gate.  The  counsellors 
of  the  king,  alarmed  by  this  circumstance, 
which  was  considered  an  evil  omen,  entreated 
him  to  return.  Their  supplications  were  in 
vain.  The  king  persisted,  and  at  noontide 
the  omen,  say  the  Moorish  chroniclers,  was 
fatally  fulfilled.  Alhamar  was  suddenly  struck 
with  illness,  and  had  nearly  fallen  from  his 
horse.  He  was  placed  on  a  litter  and  borne 
back  towards  Granada,  but  his  illness  increased 
to  such  a  degree  that  they  were  obliged  to 
pitch  his  tent  in  the  Vega.  His  physicians 
were  filled  with  consternation,  not  knowing 
what  remedy  to  prescribe.  In  a  few  hours  he 
died,  vomiting  blood  and  in  violent  convulsions. 
The  Castilian  prince,  Don  Philip,  brother  of 
Alonzo  X. ,  was  by  his  side  when  he  expired. 


Blbamar,  tbc  ffounDer  of  tbe  Blbambra  109 

His  body  was  embalmed,  enclosed  iu  a  silver 
coffin,  and  buried  in  the  Alhambra  in  a  sepul- 
chre of  precious  marble,  amidst  the  unfeigned 
lamentations  of  his  subjects,  who  bewailed  him 
as  a  parent. 

I  have  said  that  he  was  the  first  of  the 
illustrious  line  of  Nasar  that  sat  upon  a  throne. 
I  may  add  that  he  was  the  founder  of  a  bril- 
liant kingdom  which  will  ever  be  famous  in 
history  and  romance  as  the  last  rally  ing-place 
of  Moslem  power  and  splendor  in  the  Peninsula. 
Though  his  undertakings  were  vast,  and  his 
expenditures  immense,  yet  his  treasury  was 
always  full ;  and  this  seeming  contradiction 
gave  rise  to  the  story  that  he  was  versed  in 
magic  art,  and  possessed  of  the  secret  for 
transmuting  baser  metals  into  gold.  Those 
who  have  attended  to  his  domestic  policy,  as 
here  set  forth,  will  easily  understand  the 
natural  magic  and  simple  alchemy  which  made 
his  ample  treasury  to  overflow. 


J^usef  Bbul 


tbe  Jfinisber  of  tbe 
Hlbambra. 


TO  the  foregoing  particulars,  concerning 
the  Moslem  princes  who  once  reigned  in 
these  halls,  I  shall  add  a  brief  notice  of 
the  monarch  who  completed  and  embellished 
the  Alhambra.  Yusef  Abul  Hagig  (or,  as  it  is 
sometimes  written,  Haxis)  was  another  prince 
of  the  noble  line  of  Nasar.  He  ascended  the 
throne  of  Granada  in  the  year  of  grace  1333, 
and  is  described  by  Moslem  writers  as  having  a 
noble  presence,  great  bodily  strength,  and  a 
fair  complexion  ;  and  the  majesty  of  his  coun- 
tenance increased,  say  they,  by  suffering  his 
beard  to  grow  to  a  dignified  length  and  dyeing 
it  black.  His  manners  were  gentle,  affable, 
and  urbane  ;  he  carried  the  benignity  of  his 
nature  into  warfare,  prohibiting  all  wanton 
cruelty,  and  enjoining  mercy  and  protection 
towards  women  and  children,  the  aged  and 
infirm,  and  all  friars  and  other  persons  of  holy 


fusef  Bbul  1>agig  m 

and  recluse  life.  But  though  he  possessed  the 
courage  common  to  generous  spirits,  the  bent 
of  his  genius  was  more  for  peace  than  war,  and 
though  repeatedly  obliged  by  circumstances  to 
take  up  arms,  he  was  generally  unfortunate. 

Among  other  ill-starred  enterprises,  he  under- 
took a  great  campaign,  in  conjunction  with  the 
king  of  Morocco,  against  the  kings  of  Castile 
and  Portugal,  but  was  defeated  in  the  memor- 
able battle  of  Salado,  which  had  nearly  proved 
a  death-blow  to  the  Moslem  power  in  Spain. 

Yusef  obtained  a  long  truce  after  this  defeat, 
and  now  his  character  shone  forth  in  its  true 
lustre.  He  had  an  excellent  memory,  and  had 
stored  his  mind  with  science  and  erudition  ;  his 
taste  was  altogether  elegant  and  refined,  and  he 
was  accounted  the  best  poet  of  his  time.  De- 
voting himself  to  the  instruction  of  his  people 
and  the  improvement  of  their  morals  and  man- 
ners, he  established  schools  in  all  the  villages, 
with  simple  and  uniform  systems  of  education ; 
he  obliged  every  hamlet  of  more  than  twelve 
houses  to  have  a  mosque,  and  purified  the  cere- 
monies of  religion,  and  the  festivals  and  popu- 
lar amusements,  from  various  abuses  and 
indecorums  which  had  crept  into  them.  He 
attended  vigilantly  to  the  police  of  the  city, 
establishing  nocturnal  guards  and  patrols,  and 
superintending  all  municipal  concerns.  His 


Blbambra 


attention  was  also  directed  towards  finishing 
the  great  architectural  works  commenced  by 
his  predecessors,  and  erecting  others  on  his  own 
plans.  The  Alhambra,  which  had  been  founded 
by  the  good  Alhamar,  was  now  completed. 
Yusef  constructed  the  beautiful  Gate  of  Jus- 
tice, forming  the  grand  entrance  to  the  fortress, 
which  he  finished  in  1  348.  He  likewise  adorned 
many  of  the  courts  and  halls  of  the  palace,  as 
may  be  seen  by  the  inscriptions  on  the  walls, 
in  which  his  name  repeatedly  occurs.  He 
built  also  the  noble  Alcazar  or  citadel  of  Ma- 
laga, now  unfortunately  a  mere  mass  of  crum- 
bling ruins,  but  which  most  probably  exhibited 
in  its  interior  similar  elegance  and  magnificence 
with  the  Alhambra. 

The  genius  of  a  sovereign  stamps  a  character 
upon  his  time.  The  nobles  of  Granada,  imitat- 
ing the  elegant  and  graceful  taste  of  Yusef, 
soon  filled  the  city  of  Granada  with  magnificent 
palaces  ;  the  halls  of  which  were  paved  with 
mosaic,  the  walls  and  ceilings  wrought  in  fret- 
work, and  delicately  gilded  and  painted  with 
azure,  vermilion,  and  other  brilliant  colors,  or 
minutely  inlaid  with  cedar  and  other  precious 
woods  ;  specimens  of  which  have  survived,  in 
all  their  lustre,  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 
Many  of  the  houses  had  fountains,  which  threw 
up  jets  of  water  to  refresh  and  cool  the  air. 


lusef  Sbul 


They  had  lofty  towers  also,  of  wood  or  stone, 
curiously  carved  and  ornamented,  and  covered 
with  plates  of  metal  that  glittered  in  the  sun. 
Such  was  the  refined  and  delicate  taste  in 
architecture  that  prevailed  among  this  elegant 
people  ;  insomuch  that,  to  use  the  beautiful 
simile  of  an  Arabian  writer,  ' '  Granada,  in  the 
days  of  Yusef,  was  as  a  silver  vase  filled  with 
emeralds  and  jacinths." 

One  anecdote  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the 
magnanimity  of  this  generous  prince.  The 
long  truce  which  had  succeeded  the  battle  of 
Salado  was  at  an  end,  and  every  effort  of  Yusef 
to  renew  it  was  in  vain.  His  deadly  foe,  Al- 
fonzo  XI.  of  Castile,  took  the  field  with  great 
force,  and  laid  siege  to  Gibraltar.  Yusef  re- 
luctantly took  up  arms,  and  sent  troops  to  the 
relief  of  the  place.  In  the  midst  of  his  anxiety, 
he  received  tidings  that  his  dreaded  foe  had 
fallen  a  victim  to  the  plague.  Instead  of  mani- 
festing exultation  on  the  occasion,  Yusef  called 
to  mind  the  great  qualities  of  the  deceased,  and 
was  touched  with  a  noble  sorrow.  "Alas!" 
cried  he,  "the  world  has  lost  one  of  its  most 
excellent  princes  ;  a  sovereign  who  knew  how 
to  honor  merit,  whether  in  friend  or  foe  ! ' ' 

The  Spanish  chroniclers  themselves  bear 
witness  to  this  magnanimity.  According  to 
their  accounts,  the  Moorish  cavaliers  partook 


ii4  ttbe  Blbambra 

of  the  sentiment  of  their  king,  and  put  on 
mourning  for  the  death  of  Alfonzo.  Even 
those  of  Gibraltar,  who  had  been  so  closely  in- 
vested, when  they  knew  that  the  hostile  mon- 
arch lay  dead  in  his  camp,  determined  among 
themselves  that  no  hostile  movement  should  be 
made  against  the  Christians.  The  day  on 
which  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and  the  army 
departed  bearing  the  corpse  of  Alfonzo,  the 
Moors  issued  in  multitudes  from  Gibraltar,  and 
stood  mute  and  melancholy,  watching  the 
mournful  pageant.  The  same  reverence  for 
the  deceased  was  observed  by  all  the  Moorish 
commanders  on  the  frontiers,  who  suffered  the 
funeral  train  to  pass  in  safety,  bearing  the 
corpse  of  the  Christian  sovereign  from  Gib- 
raltar to  Seville.* 

Yusef  did  not  long  survive  the  enemy  he  had 
so  generously  deplored.  In  the  year  1354,  as 
he  was  one  day  praying  in  the  royal  mosque 
of  the  Alhambra,  a  maniac  rushed  suddenly 
from  behind  and  plunged  a  dagger  in  his  side. 

*  "  Y  los  moros  que  estaban  en  la  villa  y  Castillo  de 
Gibraltar  despues  que  sopieron  que  el  Rey  Don 
Alonzo  era  muerto,  ordenaron  entresi  que  ninguno 
non  fnesse  osado  de  fazer  ningun  movimiento  contra 
los  Christianos,  ni  mover  pelear  contra  ellos,  esto- 
vieron  todos  quedos  y  dezian  entre  ellos  qui  aquel 
dia  muriera  un  noble  rey  y  Gran  principedel  mundo." 


Bbul  tmcnc? 


The  cries  of  the  king  brought  his  guards  and 
courtiers  to  his  assistance.  They  found  him 
weltering  in  his  blood.  He  made  some  signs 
as  if  to  speak,  but  his  words  were  unintelligible. 
They  bore  him  senseless  to  the  royal  apart- 
ments, where  he  expired  almost  immediately. 
The  murderer  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  limbs 
burnt  in  public  to  gratify  the  fury  of  the 
populace. 

The  body  of  the  king  was  interred  in  a  superb 
sepulchre  of  white  marble  ;  a  long  epitaph,  in 
letters  of  gold  upon  an  azure  ground,  recorded 
his  virtues.  "Here  lies  a  king  and  martyr, 
of  an  illustrious  line,  gentle,  learned,  and 
virtuous  ;  renowned  for  the  graces  of  his  per- 
son and  his  manners  ;  whose  clemency,  piety, 
and  benevolence  were  extolled  throughout  the 
kingdom  of  Granada.  He  was  a  great  prince ; 
an  illustrious  captain ;  a  sharp  sword  of  the 
Moslems  ;  a  valiant  standard-bearer  among  tne 
most  potent  monarchs, ' '  etc. 

The  mosque  still  exists  which  once  resounded 
with  the  dying  cries  of  Yusef,  but  the  monu- 
ment which  recorded  his  virtues  has  long  since 
disappeared.  His  name,  however,  remains  in- 
scribed among  the  delicate  and  graceful  orna- 
ments of  the  Alhambra,  and  will  be  perpetuated 
in  connection  with  this  renowned  pile,  which  it 
was  his  pride  and  delight  to  beautify. 


/ID^sterious  Cbambers. 


AS  I  was  rambling  one  day  about  the 
Moorish  halls,  my  attention  was,  for 
the  first  time,  attracted  to  a  door  in 
a  remote  gallery,  communicating  apparently 
with  some  part  of  the  Alhambra  which  I  had 
not  yet  explored.  I  attempted  to  open  it,  but 
it  was  locked.  I  knocked,  but  no  one  an- 
swered, and  the  sound  seemed  to  reverberate 
through  empty  chambers.  Here  then  was  a 
mystery.  Here  was  the  haunted  wing  of  the 
castle.  How  was  I  to  get  at  the  dark  secrets 
here  shut  up  from  the  public  eye  ?  Should  I 
come  privately  at  night  with  lamp  and  sword, 
according  to  the  prying  custom  of  heroes  of 
romance  ;  or  should  I  endeavor  to  draw  the 
secret  from  Pepe  the  stuttering  gardener  ;  or 
the  ingenuous  Dolores,  or  the  loquacious  Ma- 
teo?  Or  should  I  go  frankly  and  openly  to 
Dame  Antonia,  the  chatelaine,  and  ask  her  all 
about  it  ?  I  chose  the  latter  course,  as  being 


&£Sterious  Chambers 


117 


the  simplest  though  the  least  romantic ;  and 
found,  somewhat  to  my  disappointment,  that 
there  was  no  mystery  in  the  case.  I  was  wel- 
come to  explore  the  apartment,  and  there  was 
the  key. 

Thus  provided,  I  returned  forthwith  to  the 
door.  It  opened,  as  I  had  surmised,  to  a  range 
of  vacant  chambers  ;  but  they  were  quite  dif- 
ferent from  the  rest  of  the  palace.  The  archi- 
tecture, though  rich  and  antiquated,  was 
European.  There  was  nothing  Moorish  about 
it.  The  first  two  rooms  were  lofty  ;  the  ceil- 
ings, broken  in  many  places,  were  of  cedar, 
deeply  panelled  and  skilfully  carved  with 
fruits  and  flowers,  intermingled  with  grotesque 
masks  or  faces. 

The  walls  had  evidently  in  ancient  times 
been  hung  with  damask  ;  but  now  were  naked 
and  scrawled  over  by  that  class  of  aspiring 
travellers  who  defile  noble  monuments  with 
their  worthless  names.  The  windows,  dis- 
mantled and  open  to  wind  and  weather,  looked 
out  into  a  charming  little  secluded  garden, 
where  an  alabaster  fountain  sparkled  among 
roses  and  myrtles,  and  was  surrounded  by 
orange  and  citron  trees,  some  of  which  flung 
their  branches  into  the  chambers.  Beyond 
these  rooms  were  two  saloons,  longer  but  less 
loft}-,  looking  also  into  the  garden.  In  the 


n8 


TTbc  Blbambra 


compartments  of  the  panelled  ceilings  were 
baskets  of  fruit  and  garlands  of  flowers,  painted 
by  no  mean  hand,  and  in  tolerable  preserva- 
tion. The  walls  also  had  been  painted  in  fresco 
in  the  Italian  style,  but  the  paintings  were 
nearly  obliterated ;  the  windows  were  in  the 
same  shattered  state  with  those  of  the  other 
chambers.  This  fanciful  suite  of  rooms  ter- 
minated in  an  open  gallery  with  balustrades, 
running  at  right  angles  along  another  side  of 
the  garden.  The  whole  apartment,  so  delicate 
and  elegant  in  its  decorations,  so  choice  and 
sequestered  in  its  situation  along  this  retired 
little  garden,  and  so  different  in  architecture 
from  the  neighboring  halls,  awakened  an  in- 
terest in  its  history.  I  found  on  inquiry  that 
it  was  an  apartment  fitted  up  by  Italian  artists 
in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  at  the 
time  when  Philip  V.  and  his  second  wife,  the 
beautiful  Elizabetta  of  Farnese,  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Parma,  were  expected  at  the 
Alhambra.  It  was  destined  for  the  queen  and 
the  ladies  of  her  train.  One  of  the  loftiest 
chambers  had  been  her  sleeping-room.  A 
narrow  staircase,  now  walled  up,  led  up  to  a 
delightful  belvedere,  originally  a  mirador  of 
the  Moorish  sultanas,  communicating  with  the 
harem  ;  but  which  was  fitted  up  as  a  boudoir 
for  the  fair  Elizabetta.  and  still  retains  the 


Chambers 


119 


name  of  El  Tocador  de  la  Reyna,  or  the  queen's 
toilette. 

One  window  of  the  royal  sleeping-room 
commanded  a  prospect  of  the  Generalife  and 
its  embowered  terraces ;  another  looked  out 
into  the  little  secluded  garden  I  have  men- 
tioned, which  was  decidedly  Moorish  in  its 
character,  and  also  had  its  history.  It  was  in 
fact  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  so  often  men- 
tioned in  descriptions  of  the  Alhambra,  but 
who  this  lyindaraxa  was  I  had  never  heard 
explained.  A  little  research  gave  me  the  few 
particulars  known  about  her.  She  was  a 
Moorish  beauty  who  flourished  in  the  court  of 
Muhamed  the  Left-Handed,  and  was  the 
daughter  of  his  loyal  adherent  the  Alcayde  of 
Malaga,  who  sheltered  him  in  his  city  when 
driven  from  the  throne.  On  regaining  his 
crown,  the  Alcayde  was  rewarded  for  his  fidel- 
ity. His  daughter  had  her  apartment  in  the 
Alhambra,  and  was  given  by  the  king  in  mar- 
riage to  Nasar,  a  young  Celtimerian  prince 
descended  from  Aben  Hud  the  Just.  Their 
espousals  were  doubtless  celebrated  in  the 
royal  palace,  and  their  honeymoon  may  have 
passed  among  these  very  bowers.* 

*  Una  de  las  cosas  en  que  tienen  precisa  interven- 
cion  los  Reyes  Moros  as  en  el  matrimonio  de  sus 
grandes  :  de  aqui  nace  que  todos  los  senores  llegadas 


Blbambra 


Four  centuries  had  elapsed  since  the  fair 
lyindaraxa  passed  away,  yet  how  much  of  the 
fragile  beauty  of  the  scenes  she  inhabited  re- 
mained !  The  garden  still  bloomed  in  which 
she  delighted  ;  the  fountain  still  presented  the 
crystal  mirror  in  which  her  charms  may  once 
have  been  reflected  ;  the  alabaster,  it  is  true, 
had  lost  its  whiteness  ;  the  basin  beneath,  over- 
run with  weeds,  had  become  the  lurking-place 
of  the  lizard,  but  there  was  something  in  the 
very  decay  that  enhanced  the  interest  of  the 
scene,  speaking  as  it  did  of  that  mutability, 
the  irrevocable  lot  of  man  and  all  his  works. 

The  desolation  too  of  these  chambers,  once 
the  abode  of  the  proud  and  elegant  Elizabetta, 
had  a  more  touching  charm  for  me  than  if  I 
had  beheld  them  in  their  pristine  splendor, 
glittering  with  the  pageantry  of  a  court. 

When  I  returned  to  my  quarters,  in  the 
governor's  apartment,  everything  seemed  tame 
and  commonplace  after  the  poetic  region  I  had 


a  la  persona  real  si  casan  en  palacio,  y  siempre  huvo 
su  quarto  destinado  para  esta  ceremonia. 

One  of  the  things  in  which  the  Moorish  kings  in- 
terfered was  in  the  marriage  of  their  nobles  ;  hence  it 
came  that  all  the  seiiors  attached  to  the  royal  person 
were  married  in  the  palace  ;  and  there  was  always  a 
chamber  destined  for  the  ceremony. — Paseos  por 
Granada,  Paseo  XXI. 


Garden  of  Lindaraxa,  with  Window  of 
the  Room  Occupied  by  Washington 
Irving, 


Chambers 


left.  The  thought  suggested  itself:  Why 
could  I  not  change  my  quarters  to  these  vacant 
chambers  ?  that  would  indeed  be  living  in  the 
Alhambra,  surrounded  by  its  gardens  and 
fountains,  as  in  the  time  of  the  Moorish  sover- 
eigns. I  proposed  the  change  to  Dame  An- 
tonia  and  her  family,  and  it  occasioned  vast 
surprise.  They  could  not  conceive  any  ra- 
tional inducement  for  the  choice  of  an  apart- 
ment so  forlorn,  remote,  and  solitary.  Dolores 
exclaimed  at  its  frightful  loneliness  ;  nothing 
but  bats  and  owls  flitting  about  —  and  then  a 
fox  and  wildcat  kept  in  the  vaults  of  the  neigh- 
boring baths,  and  roamed  about  at  night.  The 
good  Tia  had  more  reasonable  objections.  The 
neighborhood  was  infested  by  vagrants  ;  gyp- 
sies swarmed  in  the  caverns  of  the  adjacent 
hills  ;  the  palace  was  ruinous  and  easy  to  be 
entered  in  many  places  ;  the  rumor  of  a  stranger 
quartered  alone  in  one  of  the  remote  and 
ruined  apartments,  out  of  the  hearing  of  the 
rest  of  the  inhabitants,  might  tempt  unwel- 
come visitors  in  the  night,  especially  as  for- 
eigners were  always  supposed  to  be  well 
stocked  with  money.  I  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  my  humor,  however,  and  my  will  was 
law  with  these  good  people.  So,  calling  in 
the  assistance  of  a  carpenter,  and  the  ever 
officious  Mateo  Ximenes,  the  doors  and  win- 


Blbambra 


dows  were  soon  placed  in  a  state  of  tolerable 
security,  and  the  sleeping-room  of  the  stately 
Elizabetta  prepared  for  my  reception.  Mateo 
kindly  volunteered  as  a  body-guard  to  sleep  in 
my  antechamber  ;  but  I  did  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  put  his  valor  to  the  proof. 

With  all  the  hardihood  I  had  assumed  and 
all  the  precautions  I  had  taken,  I  must  confess 
the  first  night  passed  in  these  quarters  was  in- 
expressibly dreary.  I  do  not  think  it  was  so 
much  the  apprehension  of  dangers  from  with- 
out that  affected  me,  as  the  character  of  the 
place  itself,  with  all  its  strange  associations  : 
the  deeds  of  violence  committed  there  ;  the 
tragical  ends  of  many  of  those  who  had  once 
reigned  there  in  splendor.  As  I  passed  be- 
neath the  fated  halls  of  the  tower  of  Comares 
on  the  way  to  my  chamber,  I  called  to 
mind  a  quotation,  that  used  to  thrill  me  in  the 
days  of  boyhood  : 

"  Fate  sits  on  these  dark  battlements  and  frowns  ; 
And,  as  the  portal  opens  to  receive  me, 
A  voice  in  sullen  echoes  through  the  courts 
Tells  of  a  nameless  deed  !  " 

The  whole  family  escorted  me  to  my  cham- 
ber and  took  leave  of  me  as  one  engaged  on  a 
perilous  enterprise  ;  and  when  I  heard  their 
retreating  steps  die  away  along  the  waste  ante- 


Gbambers 


123 


chambers  and  echoing  galleries,  and  turned  the 
key  of  my  door,  I  was  reminded  of  those  hob- 
goblin stories  where  the  hero  is  left  to  accom- 
plish the  adventure  of  an  enchanted  house. 

Even  the  thoughts  of  the  fair  EHzabetta  and 
the  beauties  of  her  court  who  had  once  graced 
these  chambers,  now,  by  a  perversion  of  fancy, 
added  to  the  gloom.  Here  was  the  scene  of 
their  transient  gayety  and  loveliness ;  here 
were  the  traces  of  their  elegance  and  enjoy- 
ment ;  but  what  and  where  were  they  ?  Dust 
and  ashes  !  tenants  of  the  tomb  !  phantoms  of 
the  memory  ! 

A  vague  and  indescribable  awe  was  creeping 
over  me.  I  would  fain  have  ascribed  it  to  the 
thoughts  of  robbers  awakened  by  the  evening's 
conversation,  but  I  felt  it  was  something  more 
unreal  and  absurd.  The  long-buried  super- 
stitions of  the  nursery  were  reviving,  and 
asserting  their  power  over  my  imagination. 
Everything  began  to  be  affected  by  the  work- 
ing of  my  mind.  The  whispering  of  the  wind 
among  the  citron-trees  beneath  my  window 
had  something  sinister.  I  cast  my  eyes  into 
the  garden  of  I^indaraxa  ;  the  groves  presented 
a  gulf  of  shadows,  the  thickets  indistinct  and 
ghastly  shapes.  I  was  glad  to  close  the  win- 
dow, but  my  chamber  itself  became  infected. 
There  was  a  slight  rustling  noise  overhead  ;  a 


I24 


Btbambra 


bat  suddenly  emerged  from  a  broken  panel  of 
the  ceiling,  flitting  about  the  room  and  athwart 
my  solitary  lamp ;  and  as  the  fateful  bird 
almost  flouted  my  face  with  his  noiseless  wing, 
the  grotesque  faces  carved  in  high  relief  in  the 
cedar  ceiling  whence  he  had  emerged  seemed 
to  mope  and  mow  at  me. 

Rousing  myself,  and  half  smiling  at  this  tem- 
porary weakness,  I  resolved  to  brave  it  out  in 
the  true  spirit  of  the  hero  of  the  enchanted 
house  ;  so,  taking  lamp  in  hand,  I  sallied  forth 
to  make  a  tour  of  the  palace.  Notwithstand- 
ing every  mental  exertion  the  task  was  a  severe 
one.  I  had  to  traverse  waste  halls  and  mys- 
terious galleries,  where  the  rays  of  the  lamp 
extended  but  a  short  distance  around  me.  I 
walked,  as  it  were,  in  a  mere  halo  of  light, 
walled  in  by  impenetrable  darkness.  The 
vaulted  corridors  were  as  caverns  ;  the  ceilings 
of  the  halls  were  lost  in  gloom.  I  recalled  all 
that  had  been  said  of  the  danger  from  inter- 
lopers in  these  remote  and  ruined  apartments. 
Might  not  some  vagrant  foe  be  lurking  before 
or  behind  me,  in  the  outer  darkness?  My 
own  shadow,  cast  upon  the  wall,  began  to  dis- 
turb me.  The  echoes  of  my  own  footsteps 
along  the  corridors  made  me  pause  and  look 
round.  I  was  traversing  scenes  fraught  with 
dismal  recollections.  One  dark  passage  led 


Cbe 


Chambers 


125 


down  to  the  mosque  where  Yusef,  the  Moorish 
monarch,  the  finisher  of  the  Alhambra,  had 
been  basely  murdered.  In  another  place  I  trod 
the  gallery  where  another  monarch  had  been 
struck  down  by  the  poniard  of  a  relative  whom 
he  had  thwarted  in  his  love. 

A  low  murmuring  sound,  as  of  stifled  voices 
and  clanking  chains,  now  reached  me.  It 
seemed  to  come  from  the  Hall  of  the  Aben- 
cerrages.  I  knew  it  to  be  the  rush  of  water 
through  subterranean  channels,  but  it  sounded 
strangely  in  the  night,  and  reminded  me  of  the 
dismal  stories  to  which  it  had  given  rise. 

Soon,  however,  my  ear  was  assailed  by  sounds 
too  fearfully  real  to  be  the  work  of  fancy.  As 
I  was  crossing  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  low 
moans  and  broken  ejaculations  rose,  as  it  were, 
from  beneath  my  feet.  I  paused  and  listened. 
They  then  appeared  to  be  outside  of  the  tower 
— then  again  within.  Then  broke  forth  howl- 
ings  as  of  an  animal — then  stifled  shrieks  and 
inarticulate  ravings.  Heard  in  that  dead  hour 
and  singular  place  the  effect  was  thrilling.  I 
had  no  desire  for  further  perambulation,  but 
returned  to  my  chamber  with  infinitely  more 
alacrity  than  I  had  sallied  forth,  and  drew  my 
breath  more  freely  when  once  more  within  its 
walls  and  the  door  bolted  behind  me.  When  I 
awoke  in  the  morning,  with  the  sun  shining  in 


Blbambra 


at  my  window  and  lighting  up  every  part  of  the 
building  with  his  cheerful  and  truth-telling 
beams,  I  could  scarcely  recall  the  shadows  and 
fancies  conjured  up  by  the  gloom  of  the  pre- 
ceding night,  or  believe  that  the  scenes  around 
me,  so  naked  and  apparent,  could  have  been 
clothed  with  such  imaginary  horrors. 

Still,  the  dismal  howlings  and  ejaculations  I 
had  heard  were  not  ideal  ;  they  were  soon  ac- 
counted for,  however,  by  my  handmaid  Dolores, 
being  the  ravings  of  a  poor  maniac,  a  brother 
of  her  aunt,  who  was  subject  to  violent  parox- 
ysms, during  which  he  was  confined  in  a 
vaulted  room  beneath  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  evenings  a  thorough 
change  took  place  in  the  scene  and  its  associa- 
tions. The  moon,  which  when  I  took  posses- 
sion of  my  new  apartments  was  invisible, 
gradually  gained  each  evening  upon  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  and  at  length  rolled  in  full 
splendor  above  the  towers,  pouring  a  flood  of 
tempered  light  into  every  court  and  hall.  The 
garden  beneath  my  window,  before  wrapped  in 
gloom,  was  gently  lighted  up  ;  the  orange  and 
citron  trees  were  tipped  with  silver,  the  foun- 
tain sparkled  in  the  moonbeams,  and  even  the 
blush  of  the  rose  was  faintly  visible. 

I  now  felt  the  poetic  merit  of  the  Arabic 


Chambers 


127 


inscription  on  the  walls:  "  How  beauteous  is 
this  garden  ;  where  the  flowers  of  the  earth  vie 
with  the  stars  of  heaven.  What  can  compare 
with  the  vase  of  yon  alabaster  fountain  filled 
with  crystal  water  ?  nothing  but  the  moon  in 
her  fulness,  shining  in  the  midst  of  an  un- 
clouded sky  ! ' ' 

On  such  heavenly  nights  I  would  sit  for 
hours  at  my  window,  inhaling  the  sweetness 
of  the  garden,  and  musing  on  the  checkered 
fortunes  of  those  whose  history  was  dimly 
shadowed  out  in  the  elegant  memorials  around. 
Sometimes,  when  all  was  quiet,  and  the  clock 
from  the  distant  cathedral  of  Granada  struck 
the  midnight  hour,  I  have  sallied  out  on  another 
tour  and  wandered  over  the  whole  building  ; 
but  how  different  from  my  first  tour !  No 
longer  dark  and  mysterious  ;  no  longer  peopled 
with  shadowy  foes  ;  no  longer  recalling  scenes 
of  violence  and  murder  ;  all  was  open,  spacious, 
beautiful ;  everything  called  up  pleasing  and 
romantic  fancies  ;  Lindaraxa  once  more  walked 
in  her  garden  ;  the  gay  chivalry  of  Moslem 
Granada  once  more  glittered  about  the  Court 
of  I^ions  !  Who  can  do  justice  to  a  moonlight 
night  in  such  a  climate  and  such  a  place? 
The  temperature  of  a  summer  midnight  in 
Andalusia  is  perfectly  ethereal.  We  seem 
lifted  up  into  a  purer  atmosphere ;  we  feel  a 


Blbambra 


serenity  of  soul,  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  an  elas- 
ticity of  frame,  which  render  mere  existence 
happiness.  But  when  moonlight  is  added  to 
all  this,  the  effect  is  like  enchantment.  Under 
its  plastic  sway  the  Alhambra  seems  to  regain 
its  pristine  glories.  Every  rent  and  chasm  of 
time,  every  mouldering  tint  and  weather  stain 
is  gone  ;  the  marble  resumes  its  original  white- 
ness, the  long  colonnades  brighten  in  the 
moonbeams,  the  halls  are  illuminated  with  a 
softened  radiance,  —  we  tread  the  enchanted 
palace  of  an  Arabian  tale  ! 

What  a  delight,  at  such  a  time,  to  ascend  to 
the  little  airy  pavilion  of  the  queen's  toilette 
(El  Tocador  de  la  Reyna),  which,  like  a  bird- 
cage, overhangs  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and 
gaze  from  its  light  arcades  upon  the  moonlight 
prospect  !  To  the  right,  the  swelling  moun- 
tains of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  robbed  of  their 
ruggedness  and  softened  into  a  fairy  land,  with 
their  snowy  summits  gleaming  like  silver 
clouds  against  the  deep  blue  sky.  And  then 
to  lean  over  the  parapet  of  the  Tocador  and 
gaze  down  upon  Granada  and  the  Albaycin 
spread  out  like  a  map  below,  all  buried  in  deep 
repose  ;  the  white  palaces  and  convents  sleep- 
ing in  the  moonshine,  and  beyond  all  these  the 
vapory  Vega  fading  away  like  a  dreamland  in 
the  distance. 


flbgsterfous  Cbambers 


Sometimes  the  faint  click  of  castanets  rise 
from  the  Alameda,  where  some  gay  Anda- 
lusians  are  dancing  away  the  summer  night. 
Sometimes  the  dubious  tones  of  a  guitar  and 
the  notes  of  an  amorous  voice  tell  perchance 
the  whereabout  of  some  moonstruck  lover 
serenading  his  lady's  window. 

Such  is  a  faint  picture  of  the  moonlight 
nights  I  have  passed  loitering  about  the  courts 
and  halls  and  balconies  of  this  most  suggestive 
pile ;  "  feeding  my  fancy  with  sugared  suppo- 
sitions," and  enjoying  that  mixture  of  reverie 
and  sensation  which  steal  away  existence  in  a 
southern  climate ;  so  that  it  has  been  almost 
morning  before  I  have  retired  to  bed,  and  been 
lulled  to  sleep  by  the  falling  waters  of  the 
fountain  of  L,indaraxa. 


panorama  from  tbe  TTower  of  Gomares. 

IT  is  a  serene  and  beautiful  morning ;  the 
sun  has  not  gained  sufficient  power  to  de- 
stroy the  freshness  of  the  night.  What  a 
morning  to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  Tower 
of  Comares  and  take  a  bird's-eye  view  of  Gra- 
nada and  its  environs ! 

Come  then,  worthy  reader  and  comrade,  fol- 
low my  steps  into  this  vestibule,  ornamented 
with  rich  tracery,  which  opens  into  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors.  We  will  not  enter  the  hall, 
however,  but  turn  to  this  small  door  opening 
into  the  wall.  Have  a  care !  here  are  steep 
winding  steps  and  but  scanty  light,  yet  up  this 
narrow,  obscure,  and  spiral  staircase  the  proud 
monarchs  of  Granada  and  their  queens  have 
often  ascended  to  the  battlements  to  watch  the 
approach  of  invading  armies  or  gaze  with 
anxious  hearts  on  the  battles  in  the  Vega. 

At  length  we  have  reached  the  terraced 
roof  and  may  take  breath  for  a  moment  while 


panorama  from  tbe  Gower  of  Gomares   131 

we  cast  a  general  eye  over  the  splendid  pano- 
rama of  city  and  country,  of  rocky  mountain, 
verdant  valley,  and  fertile  plain ;  of  castle, 
cathedral,  Moorish  towers,  and  Gothic  domes, 
crumbling  ruins,  and  blooming  groves.  I^et 
us  approach  the  battlements  and  cast  our  eyes 
immediately  below.  See,  on  this  side  we  have 
the  whole  plain  of  the  Alhambra  laid  open  to 
us  and  can  look  down  into  its  courts  and  gar- 
dens. At  the  foot  of  the  tower  is  the  Court  of 
the  Alberca,  with  its  great  tank  or  fishpool, 
bordered  with  flowers  ;  and  yonder  is  the  Court 
of  Lions  with  its  famous  fountain  and  its  light 
Moorish  arcades  ;  and  in  the  centre  of  the  pile 
is  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  buried  in  the 
heart  of  the  building,  with  its  roses  and  citrons 
and  shrubbery  of  emerald  green. 

That  belt  of  battlements,  studded  with 
square  towers,  straggling  round  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  is  the  outer  boundary  of  the  fortress. 
Some  of  the  towers,  you  may  perceive,  are  in 
ruins  and  their  massive  fragments  buried 
among  vines,  fig-trees,  and  aloes. 

I,et  us  look  on  this  northern  side  of  the 
tower.  It  is  a  giddy  height ;  the  very  founda- 
tions of  the  tower  rise  above  the  groves  of  the 
steep  hillside.  And  see  !  a  long  fissure  in  the 
massive  walls  shows  that  the  tower  has  been 
rent  by  some  of  the  earthquakes  which  from 


132 


Slbambra 


time  to  time  have  thrown  Granada  into  con- 
sternation, and  which,  sooner  or  later,  must 
reduce  this  crumbling  pile  to  a  mere  mass  of 
ruin.  The  deep  narrow  glen  below  us,  which 
gradually  widens  as  it  opens  from  the  moun- 
tains, is  the  valley  of  the  Darro  ;  you  see  the 
little  river  winding  its  way  under  embowered 
terraces,  and  among  orchards  and  flower-gar- 
dens. It  is  a  stream  famous  in  old  times  for 
yielding  gold,  and  its  sands  are  still  sifted  oc- 
casionally in  search  of  the  precious  ore.  Some 
of  those  white  pavilions,  which  here  and  there 
gleam  from  among  groves  and  vineyards,  were 
rustic  retreats  of  the  Moors  to  enjoy  the  re- 
freshment of  their  gardens.  Well  have  they 
been  compared  by  one  of  their  poets  to  so  many 
pearls  set  in  a  bed  of  emeralds. 

The  airy  palace,  with  its  tall  white  towers 
and  long  arcades,  which  breasts  yon  mountain, 
among  pompous  groves  and  hanging  gardens, 
is  the  Generalife,  a  summer  palace  of  the 
Moorish  kings,  to  which  they  resorted  during 
the  sultry  months  to  enjoy  a  still  more  breezy 
region  than  that  of  the  Alhambra.  The  naked 
summit  of  the  height  above  it,  where  you  be- 
hold some  shapeless  ruins,  is  the  Silla  del 
Moro,  or  Seat  of  the  Moor,  so  called  from  hav- 
ing been  a  retreat  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil 
during  the  time  of  an  insurrection,  where  he 


panorama  from  tbc  {Tower  of  Comares   133 

seated  himself  and  looked  down  mournfully 
upon  his  rebellious  city. 

A  murmuring  sound  of  water  now  and  then 
rises  from  the  valley.  It  is  from  the  aqueduct 
of  yon  Moorish  mill,  nearly  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  The  avenue  of  trees  beyond  is  the  Ala- 
meda,  along  the  bank  of  the  Darro,  a  favorite 
resort  in  evenings  and  a  rendezvous  of  lovers 
in  the  summer  nights  when  the  guitar  may  be 
heard  at  a  late  hour  from  the  benches  along 
its  walks.  At  present  you  see  none  but  a  few 
loitering  monks  there  and  a  group  of  water- 
carriers.  The  latter  are  burdened  with  water- 
jars  of  ancient  Oriental  construction,  such  as 
were  used  by  the  Moors.  They  have  been 
filled  at  the  cold  and  limpid  spring  called  the 
Fountain  of  Avellanos.  Yon  mountain  path 
leads  to  the  fountain,  a  favorite  resort  of  Mos- 
lems as  well  as  Christians  ;  for.  this  is  said  to  be 
the  Adinamar  (Aynu-1-adamar),  the  "Foun- 
tain of  Tears, ' '  mentioned  by  Ibn  Batuta,  the 
traveller,  and  celebrated  in  the  histories  and 
romances  of  the  Moors. 

You  start !  't  is  nothing  but  a  hawk  that  we 
have  frightened  from  his  nest.  This  old  tower 
is  a  complete  breeding-place  for  vagrant  birds ; 
the  swallow  and  martlet  abound  in  every  chink 
and  cranny,  and  circle  about  it  the  whole  day 
long ;  while  at  night,  when  all  other  birds 


134 


TTbe  Blbambra 


liave  gone  to  rest,  the  moping  owl  comes  out 
of  its  lurking-place,  and  utters  its  boding  cry 
from  the  battlements.  See  how  the  hawk  we 
have  dislodged  sweeps  away  below  us,  skim- 
ming over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  sailing  up 
to  the  ruins  above  the  Generalife  ! 

I  see  you  raise  your  eyes  to  the  snowy  sum- 
mit of  yon  pile  of  mountains,  shining  like  a 
white  summer  cloud  in  the  blue  sky.  It  is  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  the  pride  and  delight  of  Gra- 
nada ;  the  source  of  her  cooling  breezes  and 
perpetual  verdure,  of  her  gushing  fountains 
and  perennial  streams.  It  is  this  glorious  pile 
of  mountains  which  gives  to  Granada  that 
combination  of  delights  so  rare  in  a  southern 
city, — the  fresh  vegetation  and  temperate  airs 
of  a  northern  climate,  with  the  vivifying  ardor 
of  a  tropical  sun,  and  the  cloudless  azure  of  a 
southern  sky.  It  is  this  aerial  treasury  of 
snow,  which,  melting  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
crease of  the  summer  heat,  sends  down  rivulets 
and  streams  through  every  glen  and  gorge  of 
the  Alpuxarras,  diffusing  emerald  verdure  and 
fertility  throughout  a  chain  of  happy  and  se- 
questered valleys. 

Those  mountains  may  be  well  called  the 
glory  of  Granada.  They  dominate  the  whole 
extent  of  Andalusia,  and  may  be  seen  from  its 
most  distant  parts.  The  muleteer  hails  them, 


Comares. 


panorama  from  tbe  tlower  of  Gomares    135 


as  lie  views  their  frosty  peaks  from  the  sultry 
level  of  the  plain  ;  and  the  Spanish  mariner  on 
the  deck  of  his  bark,  far,  far  off  on  the  bosom 
of  the  blue  Mediterranean,  watches  them  with 
a  pensive  eye,  thinks  of  delightful  Granada, 
and  chants,  in  low  voice,  some  old  romance 
about  the  Moors. 

See  to  the  south  at  the  foot  of  those  moun- 
tains a  line  of  arid  hills,  down  which  a  long 
train  of  mules  is  slowly  moving.  Here  was 
the  closing  scene  of  Moslem  domination.  From 
the  summit  of  one  of  those  hills  the  unfor- 
tunate Boabdil  cast  back  his  last  look  upon 
Granada,  and  gave  vent  to  the  agony  of  his 
soul.  It  is  the  spot  famous  in  song  and  story, 
"The  last  sigh  of  the  Moor." 

Farther  this  way  these  arid  hills  slope  down 
into  the  luxurious  Vega,  from  which  he  had 
just  emerged  :  a  blooming  wilderness  of  grove 
and  garden,  and  teeming  orchard,  with  the 
Xenil  winding  through  it  in  silver  links,  and 
feeding  innumerable  rills  ;  which,  conducted 
through  ancient  Moorish  channels,  maintain 
the  landscape  in  perpetual  verdure.  Here 
were  the  beloved  bowers  and  gardens,  and 
rural  pavilions,  for  which  the  unfortunate 
Moors  fought  with  such  desperate  valor.  The 
very  hovels  and  rude  granges,  now  inhabited 
by  boors,  show,  by  the  remains  of  arabesques 


136 


Blbambra 


and  other  tasteful  decoration,  that  they  were 
elegant  residences  in  the  days  of  the  Moslems. 
Behold,  in  the  very  centre  of  this  eventful 
plain,  a  place  which  in  a  manner  links  the  his- 
tory of  the  Old  World  with  that  of  the  New. 
Yon  line  of  walls  and  towers  gleaming  in  the 
morning  sun  is  the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  built  by 
the  Catholic  sovereigns  during  the  siege  of 
Granada,  after  a  conflagration  had  destroyed 
their  camp.  It  was  to  these  walls  Columbus 
was  called  back  by  the  heroic  queen,  and 
within  them  the  treaty  was  concluded  which 
led  to  the  discovery  of  the  Western  World. 
Behind  yon  promontory  to  the  west  is  the 
bridge  of  Pinos,  renowned  for  many  a  bloody 
fight  between  Moors  and  Christians.  At  this 
bridge  the  messenger  overtook  Columbus 
when,  despairing  of  success  with  the  Spanish 
sovereigns,  he  was  departing  to  carry  his  pro- 
ject of  discovery  to  the  court  of  France. 

Above  the  bridge  a  range  of  mountains 
bounds  the  Vega  to  the  west,— the  ancient 
barrier  between  Granada  and  the  Christian 
territories.  Among  their  heights  you  may 
still  discern  warrior  towns  ;  their  gray  walls 
and  battlements  seeming  of  a  piece  with  the 
rocks  on  which  they  are  built.  Here  and 
there  a  solitary  atalaya,  or  watchtower,  perched 
on  a  mountain  peak,  looks  down  as  it  were 


panorama  from  tbe  Cower  of  Comares   137 

from  the  sky  into  the  valley  on  either  side. 
How  often  have  these  atalayas  given  notice,  by 
fire  at  night  or  smoke  by  day,  of  an  approach- 
ing foe  !  It  was  down  a  cragged  defile  of  these 
mountains,  called  the  Pass  of  Lope,  that  the 
Christian  armies  descended  into  the  Vega. 
Round  the  base  of  yon  gray  and  naked  moun- 
tain (the  mountain  of  Elvira),  stretching  its 
bold  rocky  promontory  into  the  bosom  of  the 
plain,  the  invading  squadrons  would  come 
bursting  into  view,  with  flaunting  banners 
and  clangor  of  drum  and  trumpet. 

Five  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  Ismael 
ben  Ferrag,  a  Moorish  king  of  Granada,  beheld 
from  this  very  tower  an  invasion  of  the  kind, 
and  an  insulting  ravage  of  the  Vega ;  on  which 
occasion  he  displayed  an  instance  of  chivalrous 
magnanimity,  often  witnessed  in  the  Moslem 
princes,  ' '  whose  history, ' '  says  an  Arabian 
writer,  ' '  abounds  in  generous  actions  and  noble 
deeds  that  will  last  through  all  succeeding 
ages,  and  live  forever  in  the  memory  of  man." 
— But  let  us  sit  down  on  this  parapet,  and  I 
will  relate  the  anecdote. 

It  was  in  the  year  of  Grace  1319,  that  Ismael 
ben  Ferrag  beheld  from  this  tower  a  Christian 
camp  whitening  the  skirts  of  yon  mountain  of 
Elvira.  The  royal  princes,  Don  Juan  and  Don 
Pedro,  regents  of  Castile  during  the  minority 


138 


Blbambra 


of  Alphonso  XI.,  had  already  laid  waste  the 
country  from  Alcaudete  to  Alcala  la  Real, 
capturing  the  castle  of  Illora,  and  setting  fire 
to  its  suburbs,  and  they  now  carried  their  in- 
sulting ravages  to  the  very  gates  of  Granada, 
defying  the  king  to  sally  forth  and  give  them 
battle. 

Ismael,  though  a  young  and  intrepid  prince, 
hesitated  to  accept  the  challenge.  He  had  not 
sufficient  force  at  hand,  and  awaited  the  arrival 
of  troops  summoned  from  the  neighboring 
towns.  The  Christian  princes,  mistaking  his 
motives,  gave  up  all  hope  of  drawing  him 
forth,  and  having  glutted  themselves  with 
ravage,  struck  their  tents  and  began  their 
homeward  march.  Don  Pedro  led  the  van, 
and  Don  Juan  brought  up  the  rear,  but  their 
march  was  confused  and  irregular,  the  army 
being  greatly  encumbered  by  the  spoils  and 
captives  they  had  taken. 

By  this  time  King  Ismael  had  received  his 
expected  resources,  and  putting  them  under 
the  command  of  Osmyn,  one  of  the  bravest  of 
his  generals,  sent  them  forth  in  hot  pursuit  of 
the  enemy.  The  Christains  were  overtaken  in 
the  defiles  of  the  mountains.  A  panic  seized 
them  ;  they  were  completely  routed,  and  driven 
with  great  slaughter  across  the  borders.  Both 


panorama  from  tbc  Cower  of  Gomares    139 


of  the  princes  lost  their  lives.  The  body  of 
Don  Pedro  was  carried  off  by  his  soldiers,  but 
that  of  Don  Juan  was  lost  in  the  darkness  of 
the  night.  His  son  wrote  to  the  Moorish  king, 
entreating  that  the  body  of  his  father  might  be 
sought  and  honorably  treated.  Ismael  forgot 
in  a  moment  that  Don  Juan  was  an  enemy, 
who  had  carried  ravage  and  insult  to  the  very 
gate  of  his  capital ;  he  only  thought  of  him  as 
a  gallant  cavalier  and  a  royal  prince.  By  his 
command  diligent  search  was  made  for  the 
body.  It  was  found  in  a  barranca  and  brought 
to  Granada.  There  Ismael  caused  it  to  be  laid 
out  in  state  on  a  lofty  bier,  surrounded  by 
torches  and  tapers,  in  one  of  these  halls  of  the 
Alhambra.  Osmyn  and  other  of  the  noblest 
cavaliers  were  appointed  as  a  guard  of  honor, 
and  the  Christian  captives  were  assembled  to 
pray  around  it. 

In  the  meantime,  Ismael  wrote  to  the  son  of 
Prince  Juan  to  send  a  convoy  for  the  body, 
assuring  him  it  should  be  faithfully  delivered 
up.  In  due  time,  a  band  of  Christian  cavaliers 
arrived  for  the  purpose.  They  were  honorably 
received  and  entertained  by  Ismael,  and,  on 
their  departure  with  the  body,  the  guard  of 
honor  of  Moslem  cavaliers  escorted  the  funeral 
train  to  the  frontier. 


But  enough ; — the  sun  is  high  above  the 
mountains,  and  pours  his  full  fervor  on  our 
heads.  Already  the  terraced  roof  is  hot  be- 
neath our  feet ;  let  us  abandon  it,  and  refresh 
ourselves  under  the  arcades  by  the  Fountain 
of  the  Lions. 


}>uerta  del   J-itido — the  Entrance  to    the 
Enclosure  of  th*  Alhambra. 


' 


Ube  Uruant. 

WE  have  had  a  scene  of  a  petty  tribula- 
tion in  the  Alhambra,  which  has 
thrown  a  cloud  over  the  sunny 
countenance  of  Dolores.  This  little  damsel 
has  a  female  passion  for  pets  of  all  kinds  ;  and 
from  the  superabundant  kindness  of  her  dispo- 
sition one  of  the  ruined  courts  of  the  Alhambra 
is  thronged  with  her  favorites.  A  stately  pea- 
cock and  his  hen  seem  to  hold  regal  sway  here, 
over  pompous  turkeys,  querulous  guinea-fowls, 
and  a  rabble  rout  of  common  cocks  and  hens. 
The  great  delight  of  Dolores,  however,  has  for 
some  time  past  been  centred  in  a  youthful  pair 
of  pigeons,  who  have  lately  entered  into  the 
holy  state  of  wedlock,  and  even  supplanted  a 
tortoise-shell  cat  and  kittens  in  her  affections. 

As  a  tenement  for  them  wherein  to  com- 
mence housekeeping,  she  had  fitted  up  a  small 
chamber  adjacent  to  the  kitchen,  the  window 
of  which  looked  into  one  of  the  quiet  Moorish 


tTbe  Blbambra 

courts.  Here  they  lived  in  happy  ignorance 
of  any  world  beyond  the  court  and  its  sunny 
roofs.  Never  had  they  aspired  to  soar  above 
the  battlements,  or  to  mount  to  the  summit  of 
the  towers.  Their  virtuous  union  was  at 
length  crowned  by  two  spotless  and  milk- 
white  eggs,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  cherishing 
little  mistress.  Nothing  could  be  more  praise- 
worthy than  the  conduct  of  the  young  married 
folks  on  this  interesting  occasion.  They  took 
turns  to  sit  upon  the  nest  until  the  eggs  were 
hatched,  and  while  their  callow  progeny  re- 
quired warmth  and  shelter  ; — while  one  thus 
stayed  at  home,  the  other  foraged  abroad  for 
food,  and  brought  home  abundant  supplies. 

This  scene  of  conjugal  felicity  has  suddenly 
met  with  a  reverse.  Early  this  morning,  as 
Dolores  was  feeding  the  male  pigeon,  she  took 
a  fancy  to  give  him  a  peep  at  the  great  world. 
Opening  a  window,  therefore,  which  looks 
down  upon  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  she 
launched  him  at  once  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
Alhambra.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the 
astonished  bird  had  to  try  the  full  vigor  of  his 
wings.  He  swept  down  into  the  valley,  and 
then  rising  upwards  with  a  surge,  soared 
almost  to  the  clouds.  Never  before  had  he 
risen  to  such  a  height,  or  experienced  such 
delight  in  flying;  and,  like  a  young  spend- 


truant 


143 


thrift  just  come  to  his  estate,  he  seemed  giddy 
with  excess  of  liberty,  and  with  the  boundless 
field  of  action  suddenly  opened  to  him.  For 
the  whole  day  he  has  been  circling  about  in 
capricious  flights,  from  tower  to  tower,  and 
tree  to  tree.  Every  attempt  has  been  vain  to 
lure  him  back  by  scattering  grain  upon  the 
roofs.  He  seems  to  have  lost  all  thought  of 
home,  of  his  tender  helpmate,  and  his  callow 
young.  To  add  to  the  anxiety  of  Dolores,  he 
has  been  joined  by  two  palomas  ladrones,  or 
robber  pigeons,  whose  instinct  it  is  to  entice 
wandering  pigeons  to  their  own  dove-cotes. 
The  fugitive,  like  many  other  thoughtless 
youths  on  their  first  launching  upon  the  world, 
seems  quite  fascinated  with  these  knowing  but 
graceless  companions,  who  have  undertaken  to 
show  him  life,  and  introduce  him  to  society. 
He  has  been  soaring  with  them  over  all  the 
roofs  and  steeples  of  Granada.  A  thunder- 
storm has  passed  over  the  city,  but  he  has  not 
sought  his  home  ;  night  has  closed  in,  and 
still  he  comes  not.  To  deepen  the  pathos  of 
the  affair,  the  female  pigeon,  after  remaining 
several  hours  on  the  nest  without  being  re- 
lieved, at  length  went  forth  to  seek  her  recreant 
mate  ;  but  stayed  away  so  long  that  the  young 
ones  perished  for  want  of  the  warmth  and 
shelter  of  the  parent  bosom.  At  a  late  hour  in 


144 


Blbambra 


the  evening,  word  was  brought  to  Dolores  that 
the  truant  bird  had  been  seen  upon  the  towers 
of  the  Generalife.  Now  it  happens  that  the 
Administrador  of  that  ancient  palace  has  like- 
wise a  dove-cote,  among  the  inmates  of  which 
are  said  to  be  two  or  three  of  these  inveigling 
birds,  the  terror  of  all  neighboring  pigeon- 
fanciers.  Dolores  immediately  concluded  that 
the  two  feathered  sharpers  who  had  been  seen 
with  her  fugitive  were  these  bloods  of  the  Gen- 
eralife. A  council  of  war  was  forthwith  held 
in  the  chamber  of  Tia  Antonia.  The  Genera- 
life  is  a  distinct  jurisdiction  from  the  Alhambra, 
and  of  course  some  punctilio,  if  not  jealousy, 
exists  between  their  custodians.  It  was  de- 
termined, therefore,  to  send  Pepe,  the  stuttering 
lad  of  the  gardens,  as  ambassador  to  the  Ad- 
ministrador, requesting  that  if  such  fugitive 
should  be  found  in  his  dominions,  he  might  be 
given  up  as  a  subject  of  the  Alhambra.  Pepe 
departed,  accordingly,  on  his  diplomatic  expe- 
dition, through  the  moonlit  groves  and  avenues, 
but  returned  in  an  hour  with  the  afflicting  intel- 
ligence that  no  such  bird  was  to  be  found  in  the 
dove-cote  of  the  Generalife.  The  Administra- 
dor, however,  pledged  his  sovereign  word  that  if 
such  vagrant  should  appear  there,  even  at  mid- 
night, he  should  be  instantly  arrested  and  sent 
back  prisoner  to  his  little  black-eyed  mistress. 


{Truant 


Thus  stands  the  melancholy  affair,  which 
has  occasioned  much  distress  throughout  the 
palace,  and  has  sent  the  inconsolable  Dolores  to 
a  sleepless  pillow. 

"Sorrow  endureth  for  a  night,"  says  the 
proverb,  "but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning." 
The  first  object  that  met  my  eyes,  on  leaving 
my  room  this  morning,  was  Dolores,  with  the 
truant  pigeon  in  her  hands,  and  her  eyes 
sparkling  with  joy.  He  had  appeared  at  an 
early  hour  on  the  battlements,  hovering  shyly 
about  from  roof  to  roof,  but  at  length  entered 
the  window,  and  surrendered  himself  prisoner. 
He  gained  little  credit,  however,  by  his  return  ; 
for  the  ravenous  manner  in  which  he  devoured 
the  food  set  before  him  showed  that,  like  the 
prodigal  son,  he  had  been  driven  home  by 
sheer  famine.  Dolores  upbraided  him  for  his 
faithless  conduct,  calling  him  all  manners  of 
vagrant  names,  though,  womanlike,  she  fon- 
dled him  at  the  same  time  to  her  bosom,  and 
covered  him  with  kisses.  I  observed,  however, 
that  she  had  taken  care  to  clip  his  wings,  to 
prevent  all  future  soarings  ;  a  precaution  which 
I  mention  for  the  benefit  of  all  those  who  have 
truant  lovers  or  wandering  husbands.  More 
than  one  valuable  moral  might  be  drawn  from 
the  story  of  Dolores  and  her  pigeon. 


I 


TTbe 


I  HAVE  spoken  of  a  balcony  of  the  central 
window  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  It 
served  as  a  kind  of  observatory,  where  I 
used  often  to  take  my  seat,  and  consider  not 
merely  the  heaven  above,  but  the  earth  be- 
neath. Besides  the  magnificent  prospect  which 
it  commanded  of  mountain,  valley,  and  Vega, 
there  was  a  little  busy  scene  of  human  life  laid 
open  to  inspection  immediately  below.  At  the 
foot  of  the  hill  was  an  alameda,  or  public  walk, 
which,  though  not  so  fashionable  as  the  more 
modern  and  splendid  paseo  of  the  Xenil,  still 
boasted  a  varied  and  picturesque  concourse. 
Hither  resorted  the  small  gentry  of  the 
suburbs,  together  with  priests  and  friars,  who 
walked  for  appetite  and  digestion  ;  majos  and 
ma/as,  the  beaux  and  belles  of  the  lower 
classes,  in  their  Andalusian  dresses  ;  swagger- 
ing contrabandistas,  and  sometimes  half-muffled 


ITbe 


147 


and  mysterious  loungers  of  the  higher  ranks, 
on  some  secret  assignation. 

It  was  a  moving  picture  of  Spanish  life  and 
character,  which  I  delighted  to  study  ;  and  as 
the  astronomer  has  his  grand  telescope  with 
which  to  sweep  the  skies,  and,  as  it  were, 
bring  the  stars  nearer  for  his  inspection,  so  I 
had  a  smaller  one  of  pocket  size,  for  the  use 
of  my  observatory,  with  which  I  could  sweep 
the  regions  below,  and  bring  the  countenances 
of  the  motley  groups  so  close  as  almost,  at 
times,  to  make  me  think  I  could  divine  their 
conversation  by  the  play  and  expression  of 
their  features.  I  was  thus,  in  a  manner,  an 
invisible  observer,  and,  without  quitting  my 
solitude,  could  throw  myself  in  an  instant  into 
the  midst  of  society, — a  rare  advantage  to  one 
of  somewhat  shy  and  quiet  habits,  and  fond, 
like  myself,  of  observing  the  drama  of  life 
without  becoming  an  actor  in  the  scene. 

There  was  a  considerable  suburb  lying  below 
the  Alhambra,  filling  the  narrow  gorge  of  the 
valley,  and  extending  up  the  opposite  hill  of 
the  Albaycin.  Many  of  the  houses  were  built 
in  the  Moorish  style,  round  patios,  or  courts, 
cooled  by  fountains  and  open  to  the  sky  ;  and 
as  the  inhabitants  passed  much  of  their  time  in 
these  courts  and  on  the  terraced  roofs  during 
the  summer  season,  it  follows  that  many  a 


I48 


Blbambra 


glance  at  their  domestic  life  might  be  obtained 
by  an  aerial  spectator  like  myself,  who  could 
look  down  on  them  from  the  clouds. 

I  enjoyed  in  some  degree  the  advantages  of 
the  student  in  the  famous  old  Spanish  story, 
who  beheld  all  Madrid  unroofed  for  his  inspec- 
tion ;  and  my  gossiping  squire,  Mateo  Xime- 
nes,  officiated  occasionally  as  my  Asmodeus, 
to  give  me  anecdotes  of  the  different  mansions 
and  their  inhabitants. 

I  preferred,  however,  to  form  conjectural 
histories  for  myself,  and  thus  would  sit  for 
hours,  weaving,  from  casual  incidents  and  in- 
dications passing  under  my  eye,  a  whole  tissue 
of  schemes,  intrigues,  and  occupations  of  the 
busy  mortals  below.  There  was  scarce  a 
pretty  face  or  a  striking  figure  that  I  daily  saw, 
about  which  I  had  not  thus  gradually  framed 
a  dramatic  story,  though  some  of  my  charac- 
ters would  occasionally  act  in  direct  opposition 
to  the  part  assigned  them,  and  disconcert  the 
whole  drama.  Reconnoitring  one  day  with 
my  glass  the  streets  of  the  Albaycin,  I  beheld 
the  procession  of  a  novice  about  to  take  the 
veil ;  and  remarked  several  circumstances 
which  excited  the  strongest  sympathy  in  the 
fate  of  the  youthful  being  thus  about  to  be 
consigned  to  a  living  tomb.  I  ascertained  to 
my  satisfaction  that  she  was  beautiful,  and, 


JBalcony 


i49 


from  the  paleness  of  her  cheek,  that  she  was  a 
victim  rather  than  a  votary.  She  was  arrayed 
in  bridal  garments,  and  decked  with  a  chaplet 
of  white  flowers,  but  her  heart  evidently 
revolted  at  this  mockery  of  a  spiritual  union, 
and  yearned  after  its  earthly  loves.  A  tall, 
stern-looking  man  walked  near  her  in  the 
procession ;  it  was,  of  course,  the  tyrannical 
father,  who,  from  some  bigoted  or  sordid 
motive,  had  compelled  this  sacrifice.  Amid 
the  crowd  was  a  dark  handsome  youth,  in 
Andalusian  garb,  who  seemed  to  fix  on  her  an 
eye  of  agony.  It  was  doubtless  the  secret 
lover  from  whom  she  was  forever  to  be  sepa- 
rated. My  indignation  rose  as  I  noted  the 
malignant  expression  painted  on  the  counte- 
nances of  the  attendant  monks  and  friars.  The 
procession  arrived  at  the  chapel  of  the  convent  ; 
the  sun  gleamed  for  the  last  time  upon  the 
chaplet  of  the  poor  novice,  as  she  crossed  the 
fatal  threshold  and  disappeared  within  the 
building.  The  throng  poured  in  with  cowl, 
and  cross,  and  minstrelsy  ;  the  lover  paused 
for  a  moment  at  the  door.  I  could  divine  the 
tumult  of  his  feelings  ;  but  he  mastered  them, 
and  entered.  There  was  a  long  interval.  I 
pictured  to  myself  the  scene  passing  within  ; 
the  poor  novice  despoiled  of  her  transient 
finery,  and  clothed  in  the  conventual  garb  ; 


Blbambra 


the  bridal  chaplet  taken  from  her  brow,  and 
her  beautiful  head  shorn  of  its  long  silken 
tresses.  I  heard  her  murmur  the  irrevocable 
vow.  I  saw  her  extended  on  a  bier  ;  the  death- 
pall  spread  over  her  ;  the  funeral  service  per- 
formed that  proclaimed  her  dead  to  the  world  ; 
her  sighs  were  drowned  in  the  deep  tones  of 
the  organ,  and  the  plaintive  requiem  of  the 
nuns.  The  father  looked  on,  unmoved,  with- 
out a  tear  ;  the  lover — no — my  imagination 
refused  to  portray  the  anguish  of  the  lover, — 
there  the  picture  remained  a  blank. 

After  a  time  the  throng  again  poured  forth 
and  dispersed  various  ways  to  enjoy  the  light 
of  the  sun  and  mingle  with  the  stirring  scenes 
of  life ;  but  the  victim,  with  her  bridal  chap- 
let,  was  no  longer  there.  The  door  of  the  con- 
vent closed  that  severed  her  from  the  world 
forever.  I  saw  the  father  and  the  lover  issue 
forth  ;  they  were  in  earnest  conversation.  The 
latter  was  vehement  in  his  gesticulations ;  I 
expected  some  violent  termination  to  my 
drama,  but  an  angle  of  a  building  interfered 
and  closed  the  scene.  My  eye  afterwards  was 
frequently  turned  to  that  convent  with  painful 
interest.  I  remarked  late  at  night  a  solitary 
light  twinkling  from  a  remote  lattice  of  one  of 
its  towers.  "There,"  said  I,  "the  unfor- 
tunate nun  sits  weeping  in  her  cell,  while 


Cbe  JSalcong  151 

perhaps  her  lover  paces  the  street  below  in 
unavailing  anguish. ' ' 

The  officious  Mateo  interrupted  my  medita- 
tions and  destroyed  in  an  instant  the  cobweb 
tissue  of  my  fancy.  With  his  usual  zeal  he 
had  gathered  facts  concerning  the  scene  which 
put  my  fictions  all  to  flight.  The  heroine  of 
my  romance  was  neither  young  nor  handsome  ; 
she  had  no  lover  ;  she  had  entered  the  convent 
of  her  own  free  will,  as  a  respectable  asylum, 
and  was  one  of  the  most  cheerful  residents 
within  its  walls. 

It  was  some  little  while  before  I  could  for- 
give the  wrong  done  me  by  the  nun  in  being 
thus  happy  in  her  cell,  in  contradiction  to  all 
the  rules  of  romance.  I  diverted  my  spleen, 
however,  by  watching  for  a  day  or  two,  the 
pretty  coquetries  of  a  dark-eyed  brunette,  who, 
from  the  covert  of  a  balcony  shrouded  with 
flowering  shrubs  and  a  silken  awning,  was 
carrying  on  a  mysterious  correspondence  with 
a  handsome,  dark,  well-whiskered  cavalier, 
who  lurked  frequently  in  the  street  beneath 
her  window.  Sometimes  I  saw  him  at  an 
early  hour,  stealing  forth  wrapped  to  the  eyes 
in  a  mantle.  Sometimes  he  loitered  at  a  cor- 
ner, in  various  disguises,  apparently  waiting  for 
a  private  signal  to  slip  into  the  house.  Then 
there  was  the  tinkling  of  a  guitar  at  night  and 


152 


Cbe  Blbambra 


a  lantern  shifted  from  place  to  place  in  the  bal- 
cony. I  imagined  another  intrigue  like  that 
of  Almaviva,  but  was  again  disconcerted  in  all 
my  suppositions.  The  supposed  lover  turned 
out  to  be  the  husband  of  the  lady  and  a  noted 
contrabandista ,  and  all  his  mysterious  signs 
and  movements  had  doubtless  some  smuggling 
scheme  in  view. 

I  occasionally  amused  myself  with  noting 
from  this  balcony  the  gradual  changes  of  che 
scenes  below,  according  to  the  different  stages 
of  the  day. 

Scarce  has  the  gray  dawn  streaked  the  sky 
and  the  earliest  cock  crowed  from  the  cottages 
of  the  hillside,  when  the  suburbs  give  sign  of 
reviving  animation,  for  the  fresh  hours  of 
dawning  are  precious  in  the  summer  season  in 
a  sultry  climate.  All  are  anxious  to  get  the 
start  of  the  sun  in  the  business  of  the  day.  The 
muleteer  drives  forth  his  loaded  train  for  the 
journey  ;  the  traveller  slings  his  carbine  behind 
his  saddle  and  mounts  his  steed  at  the  gate  of 
the  hotel ;  the  brown  peasant  from  the  country 
urges  forward  his  loitering  beasts,  laden  with 
panniers  of  sunny  fruit  and  fresh,  dewy  vege- 
tables, for  already  the  thrifty  housewives  are 
hastening  to  the  market. 

The  sun  is  up  and  sparkles  along  the  valley, 
tipping  the  transparent  foliage  of  the  groves. 


cbc 


153 


The  matin  bells  resound  melodiously  through 
the  pure,  bright  air,  announcing  the  hour  of 
devotion.  The  muleteer  halts  his  burdened 
animals  before  the  chapel,  thrusts  his  staff 
through  his  belt  behind  and  enters  with  hat  in 
hand  smoothing  his  coal-black  hair  to  hear  a 
mass  and  to  put  up  a  prayer  for  a  prosperous 
wayfaring  across  the  sierra.  And  now  steals 
forth  on  fairy  foot  the  gentle  sefiora  in  trim 
basquina,  with  restless  fan  in  hand  and  dark 
eye  flashing  from  beneath  the  gracefully 
folded  mantilla  ;  she  seeks  some  well- frequented 
church  to  offer  up  her  morning  orisons ;  but 
the  nicely  adjusted  dress,  the  dainty  shoe  and 
cobweb  stocking,  the  raven  tresses  exquisitely 
braided,  the  fresh-plucked  rose,  gleaming 
among  them  like  a  gem,  show  that  earth 
divides  with  heaven  the  empire  of  her 
thoughts.  Keep  an  eye  upon  her,  careful 
mother,  or  virgin  aunt,  or  vigilant  duenna, 
whichever  you  may  be,  that  walk  behind  ! 

As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labor 
augments  on  every  side ;  the  streets  are 
thronged  with  man,  and  steed,  and  beast  of 
burden,  and  there  is  a  hum  and  murmur,  like 
the  surges  of  the  ocean.  As  the  sun  ascends  to 
his  meridian,  the  hum  and  bustle  gradually  de- 
cline ;  at  the  height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause. 
The  panting  city  sinks  into  lassitude,  and  for 


154 


Blbambra 


several  hours  there  is  a  general  repose.  The 
windows  are  closed,  the  curtains  drawn,  the 
inhabitants  retired  into  the  coolest  recesses  of 
their  mansions ;  the  full-fed  monk  snores  in  his 
dormitory  ;  the  brawny  porter  lies  stretched  on 
the  pavement  beside  his  burden ;  the  peasant 
and  the  laborer  sleep  beneath  the  trees  of  the 
Alameda,  lulled  by  the  sultry  chirping  of  the 
locust.  The  streets  are  deserted,  except  by 
the  water-carrier,  who  refreshes  the  ear  by  pro- 
claiming the  merits  of  his  sparkling  beverage, 
"colder  than  the  mountain  snow  (mas  fria 
que  la  nievi).  " 

As  the  sun  declines,  there  is  again  a  gradual 
reviving,  and  when  the  vesper  bell  rings  out 
his  sinking  knell,  all  nature  seems  to  rejoice 
that  the  tyrant  of  the  day  has  fallen.  Now 
begins  the  bustle  of  enjoyment,  when  the  citi- 
zens pour  forth  to  breathe  the  evening  air, 
and  revel  away  the  brief  twilight  in  the  walks 
and  gardens  of  the  Darro  and  Xenil. 

As  night  closes,  the  capricious  scene  assumes 
new  features.  Light  after  light  gradually 
twinkles  forth  ;  here  a  taper  from  a  balconied 
window  ;  there  a  votive  lamp  before  the  image 
of  a  saint.  Thus,  by  degrees,  the  city  emerges 
from  the  pervading  gloom,  and  sparkles  with 
scattered  lights,  like  the  starry  firmament. 
Now  break  forth  from  court  and  garden,  and 


Cbc  JBalcong 


155 


street  and  lane,  the  tinkling  of  innumerable 
guitars,  and  the  clicking  of  castanets  ;  blend- 
ing, at  this  lofty  height,  in  a  faint  but  general 
concert.  ' '  Enjoy  the  moment, ' '  is  the  creed 
of  the  gay  and  amorous  Andalusian,  and  at  no 
time  does  he  practise  it  more  zealously  than 
on  the  balmy  nights  of  summer,  wooing  his 
mistress  with  the  dance,  the  love-ditty,  and  the 
passionate  serenade. 

I  was  one  evening  seated  in  the  balcony,  en- 
joying the  light  breeze  that  came  rustling 
along  the  side  of  the  hill,  among  the  tree- tops, 
when  my  humble  historiographer  Mateo,  who 
was  at  my  elbow,  pointed  out  a  spacious  house, 
in  an  obscure  street  of  the  Albaycin,  about 
which  he  related,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect, 
the  following  anecdote. 


Ube  Hfcventure  of  tbe  /iDason* 


was  once  upon  a  time  a  poor 
mason,  or  bricklayer,  in  Granada,  who 
kept  all  the  saints'  days  and  holidays, 
and  Saint  Monday  into  the  bargain,  and  yet, 
with  all  his  devotion,  he  grew  poorer  and 
poorer,  and  could  scarcely  earn  bread  for  his 
numerous  family.  One  night  he  was  roused 
from  his  first  sleep  by  a  knocking  at  his  door. 
He  opened  it,  and  beheld  before  him  a  tall, 
meagre,  cadaverous-looking  priest. 

"  '  Hark  ye,  honest  friend  ! '  said  the  stran- 
ger ;  '  I  have  observed  that  you  are  a  good 
Christian,  and  one  to  be  trusted ;  will  you 
undertake  a  job  this  very  night  ?  ' 

"  '  With  all  my  heart,  Senor  Padre,  on  con- 
dition that  I  am  paid  accordingly.' 

"  '  That  you  shall  be  ;  but  you  must  suffer 
yourself  to  be  blindfolded.' 

"To  this  the  mason  made  no  objection.  So, 
being  hoodwinked,  he  was  led  by  the  priest 


adventure  of  tbe  /fcason 


157 


through  various  rough  lanes  and  winding  pas- 
sages, until  they  stopped  before  the  portal  of  a 
house.  The  priest  then  applied  a  key,  turned 
a  creaking  lock,  and  opened  what  sounded  like 
a  ponderous  door.  They  entered,  the  door 
was  closed  and  bolted,  and  the  mason  was 
conducted  through  an  echoing  corridor  and 
a  spacious  hall  to  an  interior  part  of  the 
building.  Here  the  bandage  was  removed 
from  his  eyes,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  patio, 
or  court,  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  lamp.  In 
the  centre  was  the  dry  basin  of  an  old  Moorish 
fountain,  under  which  the  priest  requested  him 
to  form  a  small  vault,  bricks  and  mortar  being  at 
hand  for  the  purpose.  He  accordingly  worked 
all  night,  but  without  finishing  the  job.  Just 
before  daybreak  the  priest  put  a  piece  of  gold 
into  his  hand,  and  having  again  blindfolded 
him,  conducted  him  back  to  his  dwelling. 

' '  '  Are  you  willing, '  said  he,  '  to  return  and 
complete  your  work  ? ' 

"  '  Gladly,  Senor  Padre,  provided  I  am  so 
well  paid.' 

"  'Well,  then,  to-morrow  at  midnight  I  will 
call  again.' 

"  He  did  so,  and  the  vault  was  completed. 

"  '  Now,'  said  the  priest,  '  you  must  help  me 
to  bring  forth  the  bodies  that  are  to  be  buried 
in  this  vault. ' 


158 


Blbambra 


"  The  poor  mason's  hair  rose  on  his  head  at 
these  words  :  he  followed  the  priest,  with  trem- 
bling steps,  into  a  retired  chamber  of  the 
mansion,  expecting  to  behold  some  ghastly 
spectacle  of  death,  but  was  relieved  on  per- 
ceiving three  or  four  portly  jars  standing  in 
one  corner.  They  were  evidently  full  of  money, 
and  it  was  with  great  labor  that  he  and  the 
priest  carried  them  forth  and  consigned  them 
to  their  tomb.  The  vault  was  then  closed,  the 
pavement  replaced,  and  all  traces  of  the  work 
were  obliterated.  The  mason  was  again  hood- 
winked and  led  forth  by  a  route  different  from 
that  by  which  he  had  come.  After  they  had 
wandered  for  a  long  time  through  a  perplexed 
maze  of  lanes  and  alleys,  they  halted.  The 
priest  then  put  two  pieces  of  gold  into  his 
hand:  'Wait  here,'  said  he,  'until  you  hear 
the  cathedral  bell  toll  for  matins.  If  you  pre- 
sume to  uncover  your  eyes  before  that  time, 
evil  will  befall  you '  :  so  saying,  he  departed. 
The  mason  waited  faithfully,  amusing  himself 
by  weighing  the  gold  pieces  in  his  hand,  and 
clinking  them  against  each  other.  The  mo- 
ment the  cathedral  bell  rang  its  matin  peal,  he 
uncovered  his  eyes,  and  found  himself  on  the 
banks  of  the  Xenil,  whence  he  made  the  best 
of  his  way  home,  and  revelled  with  his  family 
for  a  whole  fortnight  on  the  profits  of  his  two 


Gbe  aoventure  or  tbc  dBason 

nights'  work ;  after  which  he  was  as  poor  as 
ever. 

' '  He  continued  to  work  a  little,  and  pray  a 
good  deal,  and  keep  saints'  days  and  holidays, 
from  year  to  year,  while  his  family  grew  up  as 
gaunt  and  ragged  as  a  crew  of  gypsies.  As  he 
was  seated  one  evening  at  the  door  of  his  hovel, 
he  was  accosted  by  a  rich  old  curmudgeon, 
who  was  noted  for  owning  many  houses,  and 
being  a  griping  landlord.  The  man  of  money 
eyed  him  for  a  moment  from  beneath  a  pair  of 
anxious  shagged  eyebrows. 

"'I  am  told,  friend,  that  you  are  very 
poor.' 

"'There  is  no  denying  the  fact,  senor, — it 
speaks  for  itself.' 

"  '  I  presume,  then,  that  you  will  bt  glad  of 
a  job,  and  will  work  cheap.' 

"  '  As  cheap,  my  master,  as  any  mason  in 
Granada.' 

"'That  's  what  I  want.  I  have  an  old 
house  fallen  into  decay,  which  costs  me  more 
money  than  it  is  worth  to  keep  it  in  repair,  for 
nobody  will  live  in  it ;  so  I  must  contrive  to 
patch  it  up  and  keep  it  together  at  as  small 
expense  as  possible.' 

"  The  mason  was  accordingly  conducted  to  a 
large  deserted  house  that  seemed  going  to  ruin. 
Passing  through  several  empty  halls  and  cham- 


i6o 


Blbambra 


bers,  he  entered  an  inner  court,  where  his  eye 
was  caught  by  an  old  Moorish  fountain.  He 
paused  for  a  moment,  for  a  dreaming  recollec- 
tion of  the  place  came  over  him. 

"  '  Pray/  said  he,  '  who  occupied  this  house 
formerly  ? ' 

"  '  A  pest  upon  him  ! '  cried  the  landlord ;  '  it 
was  an  old  miserly  priest,  who  cared  for  nobody 
but  himself.  He  was  said  to  be  immensely 
rich,  and,  having  no  relations,  it  was  thought 
he  would  leave  all  his  treasures  to  the  Church. 
He  died  suddenly,  and  the  priests  and  friars 
thronged  to  take  possession  of  his  wealth,  but 
nothing  could  they  find  but  a  few  ducats  in  a 
leathern  purse.  The  worst  luck  has  fallen  on 
me,  for,  since  his  death,  the  old  fellow  con- 
tinues to  occupy  my  house  without  paying 
rent,  and  there  is  no  taking  the  law  of  a  dead 
man.  The  people  pretend  to  hear  the  clinking 
of  gold  all  night  in  the  chamber  where  the  old 
priest  slept,  as  if  he  were  counting  over  his 
money,  and  sometimes  a  groaning  and  moaning 
about  the  court.  Whether  true  or  false,  these 
stories  have  brought  a  bad  name  on  my  house, 
and  not  a  tenant  will  remain  in  it.' 

"  'Enough,'  said  the  mason  sturdily;  'let 
me  live  in  your  house  rent-free  until  some 
better  tenant  present,  and  I  will  engage  to  put 
it  in  repair,  and  to  quiet  the  troubled  spirit 


B&venture  of  tbe  dftason 


161 


that  disturbs  it.  I  am  a  good  Christian  and  a 
poor  man,  and  am  not  to  be  daunted  by  the 
Devil  himself,  even  though  he  should  come  in 
the  shape  of  a  big  bag  of  money  ! ' 

"  The  offer  of  the  honest  mason  was  gladly 
accepted ;  he  moved  with  his  family  into  the 
house,  and  fulfilled  all  his  engagements.  By 
little  and  little  he  restored  it  to  its  former  state ; 
the  clinking  of  gold  was  no  more  heard  at  night 
in  the  chamber  of  the  defunct  priest,  but  began 
to  be  heard  by  day  in  the  pocket  of  the  living 
mason.  In  a  word,  he  increased  rapidly  in 
wealth,  to  the  admiration  of  all  his  neighbors, 
and  became  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Granada  : 
he  gave  large  sums  to  the  Church,  by  way,  no 
doubt,  of  satisfying  his  conscience,  and  never 
revealed  the  secret  of  the  vault  until  on  his 
death-bed  to  his  son  and  heir." 


1 
I 

31 

1 


Court  of  Xfons. 


THB  peculiar  charm  of  this  old  dreamy 
palace  is  its  power  of  calling  up  vague 
reveries  and  picturings  of  the  past,  and 
thus  clothing  naked  realities  with  the  illusions 
of  the  memory  and  the  imagination.  As  I  de- 
light to  walk  in  these  "vain  shadows,"  I  am 
prone  to  seek  those  parts  of  the  Alhambra 
which  are  most  favorable  to  this  phantasma- 
goria of  the  mind  ;  and  none  are  more  so  than 
the  Court  of  Lions,  and  its  surrounding  halls. 
Here  the  hand  of  time  has  fallen  the  lightest, 
and  the  traces  of  Moorish  elegance  and  splendor 
exist  in  almost  their  original  brilliancy.  Earth- 
quakes have  shaken  the  foundations  of  this 
pile,  and  rent  its  rudest  towers  ;  yet  see  !  not 
one  of  those  slender  columns  has  been  dis- 
placed, not  an  arch  of  that  light  and  fragile 
colonnade  given  way,  and  all  the  fairy  fret- 
work of  these  domes,  apparently  as  unsubstan- 
tial as  the  crystal  fabrics  of  a  morning's  frost, 


Court  of  the  Lions,  Alhambra. 


TTbe  Court  of  Xions 


163 


exist  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  almost  as 
fresh  as  if  from  the  hand  of  the  Moslem  artist. 
I  write  in  the  midst  of  these  mementos  of  the 
past,  in  the  fresh  hour  of  early  morning,  in  the 
fated  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  The  blood- 
stained fountain,  the  legendary  monument  of 
their  massacre,  is  before  me ;  the  lofty  jet 
almost  casts  its  dew  upon  my  paper.  How 
difficult  to  reconcile  the  ancient  tale  of  violence 
and  blood  with  the  gentle  and  peaceful  scene 
around  !  Everything  here  appears  calculated 
to  inspire  kind  and  happy  feelings,  for  every- 
thing is  delicate  and  beautiful.  The  very  light 
falls  tenderly  from  above,  through  the  lantern 
of  a  dome  tinted  and  wrought  as  if  by  fairy 
hands.  Through  the  ample  and  fretted  arch 
of  the  portal  I  behold  the  Court  of  I^ions,  with 
brilliant  sunshine  gleaming  along  its  colon- 
nades and  sparkling  in  its  fountains.  The 
lively  swallow  dives  into  the  court,  and,  rising 
with  a  surge,  darts  away  twittering  over  the 
roofs  ;  the  busy  bee  toils  humming  among  the 
flower-beds  ;  and  painted  butterflies  hover  from 
plant  to  plant,  and  flutter  up  and  sport  with 
each  other  in  the  sunny  air.  It  needs  but  a 
slight  exertion  of  the  fancy  to  picture  some 
pensive  beauty  of  the  harem,  loitering  in  these 
secluded  haunts  of  Oriental  luxury. 

He,  however,  who  would  behold  this  scene 


i64 


tlbe  Slbambra 


under  an  aspect  more  in  unison  with  its  for- 
tunes, let  him  come  when  the  shadows  of 
evening  temper  the  brightness  of  the  court, 
and  throw  a  gloom  into  the  surrounding  halls. 
Then  nothing  can  be  more  serenely  melancholy, 
or  more  in  harmony  with  the  tale  of  departed 
grandeur. 

At  such  times  I  am  apt  to  seek  the  Hall  of 
Justice,  whose  deep  shadowy  arcades  extend 
across  the  upper  end  of  the  court.  Here  was 
performed,  in  presence  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella and  their  triumphant  court,  the  pompous 
ceremonial  of  High  Mass,  on  taking  possession 
of  the  Alhambra.  The  very  cross  is  still  to  be 
seen  upon  the  wall,  where  the  altar  was 
erected,  and  where  officiated  the  Grand  Cardi- 
nal of  Spain,  and  others  of  the  highest  religious 
dignitaries  of  the  land.  I  picture  to  myself 
the  scene  when  this  place  was  filled  with  the 
conquering  host,  that  mixture  of  mitred  prel- 
ate and  shaven  monk,  and  steel-clad  knight 
and  silken  courtier ;  when  crosses  and  crosiers 
and  religious  standards  were  mingled  with 
proud  armorial  ensigns  and  the  banners  of  the 
haughty  chiefs  of  Spain,  and  flaunted  in  tri- 
umph through  these  Moslem  halls.  I  picture 
to  myself  Columbus,  the  future  discoverer  of  a 
world,  taking  his  modest  stand  in  a  remote 
corner,  the  humble  and  neglected  spectator  of 


Court  of  Zions 


165 


the  pageant.  I  see  in  imagination  the  Catholic 
sovereigns  prostrating  themselves  before  the 
altar,  and  pouring  forth  thanks  for  their  vic- 
tory ;  while  the  vaults  resound  with  sacred 
minstrelsy,  and  the  deep-toned  Te  Deum. 

The  transient  illusion  is  over, — the  pageant 
melts  from  the  fancy, — monarch,  priest,  and 
warrior  return  into  oblivion  with  the  poor 
Moslems  over  whom  they  exulted.  The  hall 
of  their  triumph  is  waste  and  desolate.  The 
bat  flits  about  its  twilight  vault,  and  the 
owl  hoots  from  the  neighboring  Tower  of 
Comares. 

Entering  the  Court  of  the  I^ions  a  few  even- 
ings since,  I  was  almost  startled  at  beholding 
a  turbaned  Moor  quietly  seated  near  the 
fountain.  For  a  moment  one  of  the  fictions  of 
the  place  seemed  realized  :  an  enchanted  Moor 
had  broken  the  spell  of  centuries,  and  become 
visible.  He  proved,  however,  to  be  a  mere 
ordinary  mortal, — a  native  of  Tetuan,  in  Bar- 
bary,  who  had  a  shop  in  the  Zacatin  of  Gra- 
nada, where  he  sold  rhubarb,  trinkets,  and 
perfumes.  As  he  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I 
was  enabled  to  hold  conversation  with  him, 
and  found  him  shrewd  and  intelligent.  He 
told  me  that  he  came  up  the  hill  occasionally 
in  the  summer,  to  pass  a  part  of  the  day  in  the 
Alhambra,  which  reminded  him  of  the  old 


166 


Gbe  Blbambra 


palaces  in  Barbary,  being  built  and  adorned  in 
similar  style,  though  with  more  magnificence. 

As  we  walked  about  the  palace,  he  pointed 
out  several  of  the  Arabic  inscriptions,  as 
possessing  much  poetic  beauty. 

"Ah,  seiior,"  said  he,  "when  the  Moors 
held  Granada,  they  were  a  gayer  people  than 
they  are  nowadays.  They  thought  only  of 
love,  music,  and  poetry.  They  made  stanzas 
upon  every  occasion,  and  set  them  all  to  music. 
He  who  could  make  the  best  verses,  and  she 
who  had  the  most  tuneful  voice,  might  be  sure 
of  favor  and  preferment.  In  those  days,  if  any 
one  asked  for  bread,  the  reply  was  '  Make  me 
a  couplet'  ;  and  the  poorest  beggar,  if  he 
begged  in  rhyme,  would  often  be  rewarded 
with  a  piece  of  gold. ' ' 

"And  is  the  popular  feeling  for  poetry," 
said  I,  "  entirely  lost  among  you  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  seiior ;  the  people  of  Barbary, 
even  those  of  the  lower  classes,  still  make 
couplets — and  good  ones  too — as  in  old  times ; 
but  talent  is  not  rewarded  as  it  was  then.  The 
rich  prefer  the  jingle  of  their  gold  to  the  sound 
of  poetry  or  music." 

As  he  was  talking,  his  eye  caught  one  of  the 
inscriptions  which  foretold  perpetuity  to  the 
power  and  glory  of  the  Moslem  monarchs,  the 
masters  of  this  pile.  He  shook  his  head,  and 


Court  of  3Lion» 


167 


shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  he  interpreted  it. 
"Such  might  have  been  the  case,"  said  he; 
"  the  Moslems  might  still  have  been  reigning 
in  the  Alhambra,  had  not  Boabdil  been  a 
traitor,  and  given  up  his  capital  to  the  Chris- 
tians. The  Spanish  monarchs  would  never 
have  been  able  to  conquer  it  by  open  force. ' ' 

I  endeavored  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the 
unlucky  Boabdil  from  this  aspersion,  and  to 
show  that  the  dissensions  which  led  to  the 
downfall  of  the  Moorish  throne  originated  in 
the  cruelty  of  his  tiger-hearted  father.  But  the 
Moor  would  admit  of  no  palliation. 

"  Muley  Abul  Hassan,"  said  he,  "might 
have  been  cruel ;  but  he  was  brave,  vigilant, 
and  patriotic.  Had  he  been  properly  seconded, 
Granada  would  still  have  been  ours  ;  but  his 
son  Boabdil  thwarted  his  plans,  crippled  his 
power,  sowed  treason  in  his  palace  and  dissen- 
sion in  his  camp.  May  the  curse  of  God  light 
upon  him  for  his  treachery  ! ' '  With  these 
words  the  Moor  left  the  Alhambra. 

The  indignation  of  my  turbaned  companion 
agrees  with  an  anecdote  related  by  a  friend, 
who,  in  the  course  of  a  tour  in  Barbary,  had  an 
interview  with  the  Pacha  of  Tetuan.  The 
Moorish  governor  was  particular  in  his  in- 
quiries about  Spain,  and  especially  concerning 
the  favored  region  of  Andalusia,  the  delights 


168 


Blbambra 


of  Granada,  and  the  remains  of  its  royal  palace. 
The  replies  awakened  all  those  fond  recollec- 
tions, so  deeply  cherished  by  the  Moors,  of  the 
power  and  splendor  of  their  ancient  empire  in 
Spain.  Turning  to  his  Moslem  attendants,  the 
Pacha  stroked  his  beard,  and  broke  forth  in 
passionate  lamentations  that  such  a  sceptre 
should  have  fallen  from  the  sway  of  true 
believers.  He  consoled  himself,  however,  with 
the  persuasion  that  the  power  and  prosperity 
of  the  Spanish  nation  were  on  the  decline; 
that  a  time  would  come  when  the  Moors  would 
conquer  their  rightful  domains,  and  that  the  day 
was  perhaps  not  far  distant  when  Mohammedan 
worship  would  again  be  offered  up  in  the 
mosque  of  Cordova,  and  a  Mohammedan  prince 
sit  on  his  throne  in  the  Alhambra. 

Such  is  the  general  aspiration  and  belief 
among  the  Moors  of  Barbary,  who  consider 
Spain,  or  Andaluz,  as  it  was  anciently  called, 
their  rightful  heritage,  of  which  they  have 
been  despoiled  by  treachery  and  violence. 
These  ideas  are  fostered  and  perpetuated  by 
the  descendants  of  the  exiled  Moors  of  Granada, 
scattered  among  the  cities  of  Barbary.  Several 
of  these  reside  in  Tetuan,  preserving  their 
ancient  names,  such  as  Paez  and  Medina,  and 
refraining  from  intermarriage  with  any  families 
who  cannot  claim  the  same  high  origin.  Their 


€bc  Court  of  OLfons 


169 


vaunted  lineage  is  regarded  with  a  degree  of 
popular  deference  rarely  shown  in  Moham- 
medan communities  to  any  hereditary  distinc- 
tion, excepting  in  the  royal  line. 

These  families,  it  is  said,  continue  to  sigh 
after  the  terrestrial  paradise  of  their  ancestors, 
and  to  put  up  prayers  in  their  mosques  on 
Fridays,  imploring  Allah  to  hasten  the  time 
when  Granada  shall  be  restored  to  the  faithful : 
an  event  to  which  they  look  forward  as  fondly 
and  confidently  as  did  the  Christian  crusaders 
to  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Nay, 
it  is  added  that  some  of  them  retain  the  ancient 
maps  and  deeds  of  the  estates  and  gardens  of 
their  ancestors  at  Granada,  and  even  the  keys 
of  the  houses,  holding  them  as  evidences  of 
their  hereditary  claims,  to  be  produced  at  the 
anticipated  day  of  restoration. 

My  conversation  with  the  Moors  set  me  to 
musing  on  the  fate  of  Boabdil.  Never  was 
surname  more  applicable  than  that  bestowed 
upon  him  by  his  subjects,  of  El  Zogoybi,  or  The 
Unlucky.  His  misfortunes  began  almost  in  his 
cradle,  and  ceased  not  even  with  his  death. 
If  ever  he  cherished  the  desire  of  leaving  an 
honorable  name  on  the  historic  page,  how 
cruelly  has  he  been  defrauded  of  his  hopes ! 
Who  is  there  that  has  turned  the  least  attention 
to  the  romantic  history  of  the  Moorish  domina- 


170 


aibambra 


tion  in  Spain,  without  kindling  with  indigna- 
tion at  the  alleged  atrocities  of  Boabdil  ?  Who 
has  not  been  touched  with  the  woes  of  his 
lovely  and  gentle  queen,  subjected  by  him  to  a 
trial  of  life  and  death,  on  a  false  charge  of  infi- 
delity? Who  has  not  been  shocked  by  his 
alleged  murder  of  his  sister  and  her  two  chil- 
dren, in  a  transport  of  passion  ?  Who  has  not 
felt  his  blood  boil  at  the  inhuman  massacre  of 
the  gallant  Abencerrages,  thirty-six  of  whom, 
it  is  affirmed,  he  ordered  to  be  beheaded  in  the 
Court  of  Lions  ?  All  these  charges  have  been 
reiterated  in  various  forms  ;  they  have  passed 
into  ballads,  dramas,  and  romances,  until  they 
have  taken  too  thorough  possession  of  the  public 
mind  to  be  eradicated.  There  is  not  a  foreigner 
of  education  that  visits  the  Alhambra  but  asks 
for  the  fountain  where  the  Abencerrages  were 
beheaded,  and  gazes  with  horror  at  the  grated 
gallery  where  the  queen  is  said  to  have  been 
confined ;  not  a  peasant  of  the  Vega  or  the  Si- 
erra but  sings  the  story  in  rude  couplets,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  his  guitar,  while  his  hearers 
learn  to  execrate  the  very  name  of  Boabdil. 

Never,  however,  was  name  more  foully  and 
unjustly  slandered.  I  have  examined  all  the 
authentic  chronicles  and  letters  written  by 
Spanish  authors  contemporary  with  Boabdil ; 
some  of  whom  were  in  the  confidence  of  the 


Court  of  "Lions 


m 


Catholic  sovereigns,  and  actually  present  in 
the  camp  throughout  the  war.  I  have  exam- 
ined all  the  Arabian  authorities  I  could  get 
access  to,  through  the  medium  of  translation, 
and  have  found  nothing  to  justify  these  dark 
and  hateful  accusations.  The  most  of  these 
tales  may  be  traced  to  a  work  commonly 
called  "The  Civil  Wars  of  Granada,"  contain- 
ing a  pretended  history  of  the  feuds  of  the 
Zegries  and  Abencerrages,  during  the  last 
struggle  of  the  Moorish  empire.  The  work 
appeared  originally  in  Spanish,  and  professed 
to  be  translated  from  the  Arabic  by  one  Gines 
Perez  de  Hita,  an  inhabitant  of  Murcia.  It 
has  since  passed  into  various  languages,  and 
Florian  has  taken  from  it  much  of  the  fable 
of  his  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova.  It  has  thus,  in  a 
great  measure,  usurped  the  authority  of  real 
history,  and  is  currently  believed  by  the  peo- 
ple, and  especially  the  peasantry  of  Granada. 
The  whole  of  it,  however,  is  a  mass  of  fiction, 
mingled  with  a  few  disfigured  truths,  which 
give  it  an  air  of  veracity.  It  bears  internal 
evidence  of  its  falsity  ;  the  manners  and  cus- 
toms of  the  Moors  being  extravagantly  mis- 
represented in  it,  and  scenes  depicted  totally 
incompatible  with  their  habits  and  their  faith, 
and  which  never  could  have  been  recorded  by 
a  Mohammedan  writer. 


ITbe  Zllbambra 

I  confess  there  seems  to  me  something  almost 
criminal  in  the  wilful  perversions  of  this  work  : 
great  latitude  is  undoubtedly  to  be  allowed  to 
romantic  fiction,  but  there  are  limits  which  it 
must  not  pass  ;  and  the  names  of  the  distin- 
guished dead,  which  belong  to  history,  are  no 
more  to  be  calumniated  than  those  of  the  illus- 
trious living.  One  would  have  thought,  too, 
that  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  had  suffered 
enough  for  his  justifiable  hostility  to  the  Span- 
iards, by  being  stripped  of  his  kingdom, 
without  having  his  name  thus  wantonly  tra- 
duced, and  rendered  a  by-word  and  a  theme 
of  infamy  in  his  native  land,  and  in  the  very 
mansion  of  his  fathers  ! 

If  the  reader  is  sufficiently  interested  in 
these  questions  to  tolerate  a  little  historical 
detail,  the  following  facts,  gleaned  from  what 
appear  to  be  authentic  sources,  and  tracing  the 
fortunes  of  the  Abencerrages,  may  serve  to  ex- 
culpate the  unfortunate  Boabdil  from  the  per- 
fidious massacre  of  that  illustrious  line  so 
shamelessly  charged  to  him.  It  will  also 
serve  to  throw  a  proper  light  upon  the  alleged 
accusation  and  imprisonment  of  his  queen. 


TTbe  Hbencerrages. 

A  GRAND  line  of  distinction  existed 
among  the  Moslems  of  Spain,  between 
those  of  Oriental  origin  and  those  from 
Western  Africa.  Among  the  former  the  Arabs 
considered  themselves  the  purest  race,  as  being 
descended  from  the  countrymen  of  the  Prophet, 
who  first  raised  the  standard  of  Islam  ;  among 
the  latter,  the  most  warlike  and  powerful  were 
the  Berber  tribes  from  Mount  Atlas  and  the 
deserts  of  Sahara,  commonly  known  as  Moors, 
who  subdued  the  tribes  of  the  sea-coast, 
founded  the  city  of  Morocco,  and  for  a  long 
time  disputed  with  the  Oriental  races  the  con- 
trol of  Moslem  Spain. 

Among  the  Oriental  races  the  Abencerrages 
held  a  distinguished  rank,  priding  themselves 
on  a  pure  Arab  descent  from  the  Beni  Seraj, 
one  of  the  tribes  who  were  Ansares  or  Com- 
panions of  the  Prophet.  The  Abencerrages 
nourished  for  a  time  at  Cordova  ;  but  probably 


174 


Cbe  Slbambra 


repaired  to  Granada  after  the  downfall  of  the 
Western  Caliphat ;  it  was  there  they  attained 
their  historical  and  romantic  celebrity,  being 
foremost  among  the  splendid  chivalry  which 
graced  the  court  of  the  Alhambra. 

Their  highest  and  most  dangerous  prosperity 
was  during  the  precarious  reign  of  Muhamed 
Nasar,  surnamed  Bl  Hayzari,  or  The  Left- 
handed.  That  ill-starred  monarch,  when  he 
ascended  the  throne  in  1423,  lavished  his 
favors  upon  this  gallant  line,  making  the  head 
of  the  tribe,  Jusef  Abeii  Zeragh,  his  vizier,  or 
prime-minister,  and  advancing  his  relatives 
and  friends  to  the  most  distinguished  posts 
about  the  court.  This  gave  great  offence  to 
other  tribes,  and  caused  intrigues  among  their 
chiefs.  Muhamed  lost  popularity  also  by  his 
manners.  He  was  vain,  inconsiderate,  and 
haughty  ;  disdained  to  mingle  among  his  sub- 
jects ;  forbade  those  jousts  and  tournaments, 
the  delight  of  high  and  low,  and  passed  his  time 
in  the  luxurious  retirement  of  the  Alhambra. 
The  consequence  was  a  popular  insurrection ; 
the  palace  was  stormed  ;  the  king  escaped 
through  the  gardens,  fled  to  the  sea-coast, 
crossed  in  disguise  to  Africa,  and  took  refuge 
with  his  kinsman,  the  sovereign  of  Tunis. 

Muhamed  el  Zaguer,  cousin  of  the  fugitive 
monarch,  took  possession  of  the  vacant  throne. 


Cbe  Bbencerrages 


175 


He  pursued  a  different  course  from  his  prede- 
cessor. He  not  only  gave  fetes  and  tourneys, 
but  entered  the  lists  himself,  in  grand  and 
sumptuous  array  ;  he  distinguished  himself  i:i 
managing  his  horse,  in  tilting,  riding  at  the  ring, 
and  other  chivalrous  exercises  ;  feasted  with  his 
cavaliers,  and  made  them  magnificent  presents. 
Those  who  had  been  in  favor  with  his  prede- 
cessor, now  experienced  a  reverse ;  he  mani- 
fested such  hostility  to  them  that  more  than 
five  hundred  of  the  principal  cavaliers  left  the 
city.  Jusef  Aben  Zeragh,  with  forty  of  the 
Abencerrages,  abandoned  Granada  in  the 
night,  and  sought  the  court  of  Juan  the  King 
of  Castile.  Moved  by  their  representations, 
that  young  and  generous  monarch  wrote  let- 
ters to  the  sovereign  of  Tunis,  inviting  him  to 
assist  in  punishing  the  usurper  and  restoring 
the  exiled  king  to  his  throne.  The  faithful 
and  indefatigable  vizier  accompanied  the  bearer 
of  these  letters  to  Tunis,  where  he  rejoined  his 
exiled  sovereign.  The  letters  were  successful. 
Muhamed  el  Hayzari  landed  in  Andalusia  with 
five  hundred  African  horse,  and  was  joined  by 
the  Abencerrages  and  others  of  his  adherents 
and  by  his  Christian  allies.  Wherever  he  ap- 
peared the  people  submitted  to  him ;  troops 
sent  against  him  deserted  to  his  standard; 
Granada  was  recovered  without  a  blow ;  the 


Blbambra 


usurper  retreated  to  the  Alhambra,  but  was 
beheaded  by  his  own  soldiers  (1428),  after 
reigning  between  two  and  three  years. 

El  Hayzari,  once  more  on  the  throne,  heaped 
honors  on  the  loyal  vizier,  through  whose  faith- 
ful services  he  had  been  restored,  and  once 
more  the  line  of  the  Abencerrages  basked  in 
the  sunshine  of  royal  favor.  El  Hayzari  sent 
ambassadors  to  King  Juan,  thanking  him  for 
his  aid,  and  proposing  a  perpetual  league  of 
amity.  The  King  of  Castile  required  homage 
and  yearly  tribute.  These  the  left-handed  mon- 
arch refused,  supposing  the  youthful  king  too 
much  engaged  in  civil  war  to  enforce  his  claims. 
Again  the  kingdom  of  Granada  was  harassed 
by  invasions,  and  its  Vega  laid  waste.  Various 
battles  took  place  with  various  success.  But 
El  Hayzari'  s  greatest  danger  was  near  at  home. 
There  was  at  that  time  in  Granada  a  cavalier, 
Don  Pedro  Venegas  by  name,  a  Moslem  by 
faith,  but  Christian  by  descent,  whose  early 
history  borders  on  romance.  He  was  of  the 
noble  house  of  L,uque,  but  captured  when  a 
child,  eight  years  of  age,  by  Cid  Yahia  Alnayar, 
Prince  of  Almeria,*  who  adopted  him  as  his 
son,  educated  him  in  the  Moslem  faith,  and 
brought  him  up  among  his  children,  the  Celti- 
merian  princes,  a  proud  family,  descended  in 

*  Alcantara,  "Hist.  Granad.,"  O.  3,  p.  226,  note. 


Bbencerrages 


177 


direct  line  from  Aben  Hud,  one  of  the  early 
Granadian  kings.  A  mutual  attachment 
sprang  up  between  Don  Pedro  and  the  Princess 
Cetimerien,  a  daughter  of  Cid  Yahia,  famous 
for  her  beauty,  and  whose  name  is  perpetuated 
by  the  ruins  of  her  palace  in  Granada — still 
bearing  traces  of  Moorish  elegance  and  luxury. 
In  process  of  time  they  were  married  ;  and  thus 
a  scion  of  the  Spanish  house  of  L,uque  became 
engrafted  on  the  royal  stock  of  Aben  Hud. 

Such  is  the  early  story  of  Don  Pedro  Vene- 
gas  who,  at  the  time  of  which  we  treat  was  a 
man  mature  in  years,  and  of  an  active,  ambi- 
tious spirit.  He  appears  to  have  been  the  soul 
of  a  conspiracy  set  on  foot  about  this  time  to 
topple  Muhamed  the  L,eft-handed  from  his  un- 
steady throne  and  elevate  in  his  place  Yusef 
Aben  Alhamar,  the  eldest  of  the  Celtimerian 
princes.  The  aid  of  the  King  of  Castile  was 
to  be  secured,  and  Don  Pedro  proceeded  on  a 
secret  embassy  to  Cordova  for  the  purpose. 
He  informed  King  Juan  of  the  extent  of  the 
conspiracy  ;  that  Yusef  Aben  Alhamar  could 
bring  a  large  force  to  his  standard  as  soon 
as  he  should  appear  in  the  Vega,  and  would 
acknowledge  himself  his  vassal,  if  with  his 
aid  he  should  attain  the  crown.  The  aid  was 
promised,  and  Don  Pedro  hastened  back  to 
Granada  with  the  tidings.  The  conspirators 


Blbambra 


now  left  the  city  a  few  at  a  time  under  various 
pretexts,  and  when  King  Juan  passed  the 
frontier,  Yusef  Aben  Alhamar  brought  eight 
thousand  men  to  his  standard  and  kissed  his 
hand  in  token  of  allegiance. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  the  various  battles 
by  which  the  kingdom  was  desolated,  and  the 
various  intrigues  by  which  one  half  of  it  was 
roused  to  rebellion.  The  Abencerrages  stood 
by  the  failing  fortunes  of  Muhamed  throughout 
the  struggle ;  their  last  stand  was  at  Loxa 
where  their  chief,  the  vizier  Yusef  Aben  Ze- 
ragh,  fell  bravely  fighting,  and  many  of  their 
noblest  cavaliers  were  slain  ;  in  fact,  in  that 
disastrous  war  the  fortunes  of  the  family  were 
nearly  wrecked. 

Again  the  ill-starred  Muhamed  was  driven 
from  his  throne  and  took  refuge  in  Malaga,  the 
Alcayde  of  which  still  remained  true  to  him. 

Yusef  Aben  Alhamar,  commonly  known  as 
Yusef  II.,  entered  Granada  in  triumph  on  the 
ist  of  January,  1432,  but  he  found  it  a  melan- 
choly city,  where  half  of  the  inhabitants  were 
in  mourning.  Not  a  noble  family  but  had  lost 
some  member  ;  and  in  the  slaughter  of  the 
Abencerrages  at  Loxa  had  fallen  some  of  the 
brightest  of  the  chivalry. 

The  royal  pageant  passed  through  silent 
streets,  and  the  barren  homage  of  a  court  in  the 


Bbencerrages 


179 


halls  of  the  Alhambra  ill  supplied  the  want  of 
sincere  and  popular  devotion.  Yusef  Aben  Al- 
hamar  felt  the  insecurity  of  his  position.  The 
deposed  monarch  was  at  hand  in  Malaga  ;  the 
sovereign  of  Tunis  espoused  his  cause  and 
pleaded  with  the  Christian  monarchs  in  his 
favor  ;  above  all,  Yusef  felt  his  own  unpopu- 
larity in  Granada  ;  previous  fatigues  had  im- 
paired his  health,  a  profound  melancholy 
settled  upon  him,  and  in  the  course  of  six 
months  he  sank  into  the  grave. 

At  the  news  of  his  death,  Muhamed  the 
Left-handed  hastened  from  Malaga  and  again 
was  placed  on  a  throne.  From  the  wrecks  of 
the  Abencerrages  he  chose  as  vizier  Abdelbar, 
one  of  the  worthiest  of  that  magnanimous  line. 
Through  his  advice  he  restrained  his  vindic- 
tive feelings  and  adopted  a  conciliatory  policy. 
He  pardoned  most  of  his  enemies.  Yusef,  the 
defunct  usurper,  had  left  three  children.  His 
estates  were  apportioned  among  them.  Aben 
Celim,  the  eldest  son,  was  confirmed  in  the 
title  of  Prince  of  Almeria  and  Lord  of  Marchena 
in  the  Alpuxarras.  Ahmed,  the  youngest, 
was  made  Senor  of  L,uchar ;  and  Kquivila,  the 
daughter,  received  rich  patrimonial  lands  in 
the  fertile  Vega  and  various  houses  and  shops 
in  the  Zacatin  of  Granada.  The  vizier  Abdel- 
bar counselled  the  king,  moreover,  to  secure 


i8o 


Woe  aibambra 


the  adherence  of  the  family  by  matrimonial 
connections.  An  aunt  of  Muhamed  was  ac- 
cordingly given  in  marriage  to  Aben  Celim, 
while  the  Prince  Nasar,  younger  brother  of  the 
deceased  usurper,  received  the  hand  of  the 
beautiful  kindaraxa,  daughter  of  Muhamed's 
faithful  adherent,  the  Alcayde  of  Malaga.  This 
was  the  I,indaraxa  whose  name  still  designates 
one  of  the  gardens  of  the  Alhambra. 

Don  Pedro  de  Venegas  alone,  the  husband 
of  the  Princess  Cetimerien,  received  no  favor. 
He  was  considered  as  having  produced  the 
late  troubles  by  his  intrigues.  The  Abencer- 
rages  charged  him  with  the  reverses  of  their 
family  and  the  deaths  of  so  many  of  their 
bravest  cavaliers.  The  king  never  spoke  of 
him  but  by  the  opprobrious  appellation  of  the 
Tornadizo,  or  Renegade.  Finding  himself  in 
danger  of  arrest  and  punishment,  he  took  leave 
of  his  wife,  the  princess,  his  two  sons,  Abul 
Cacim  and  Reduan,  and  his  daughter,  Ceti- 
merien, and  fled  to  Jaen.  There,  like  his 
brother-in-law,  the  usurper,  he  expiated  his 
intrigues  and  irregular  ambition  by  profound 
humiliation  and  melancholy,  and  died  in  1434 
a  penitent,  because  a  disappointed  man.* 

*  Salazar  y  Castro,  "  Hist.  Genealog.  de  la  Casa  de 
Lara,"  lib.  v.,  c.  12,  cited  by  Alcantara  in  his  "Hist. 
Granad." 


Cbe  abencerrages 


181 


Muhamed  el  Hayzari  was  doomed  to  further 
reverses.  He  had  two  nephews,  Aben  Osmyn, 
surnamed  El  Anaf,  or  The  Lame,  and  Aben 
Ismael.  The  former,  who  was  of  an  ambitious 
spirit,  resided  in  Almeria  ;  the  latter  in  Gra- 
nada, where  he  had  many  friends.  He  was  on 
the  point  of  espousing  a  beautiful  girl,  when 
his  royal  uncle  interfered  and  gave  her  to  one 
of  his  favorites.  Enraged  at  this  despotic  act, 
the  Prince  Aben  Ismael  took  horse  and 
weapons  and  sallied  from  Granada  for  the 
frontier,  followed  by  numerous  cavaliers.  The 
affair  gave  general  disgust,  especially  to  the 
Abencerrages  who  were  attached  to  the  prince. 
No  sooner  did  tidings  reach  Aben  Osmyn  of 
the  public  discontent  than  his  ambition  was 
aroused.  Throwing  himself  suddenly  into 
Granada,  he  raised  a  popular  tumult,  surprised 
his  uncle  in  the  Alhambra,  compelled  him  to 
abdicate,  and  proclaimed  himself  king.  This 
occurred  in  September,  1445.  The  Abencer- 
rages now  gave  up  the  fortunes  of  the  left- 
handed  king  as  hopeless,  and-  himself  as  in- 
competent to  rule.  Led  by  their  kinsman,  the 
vizier  Abdelbar,  and  accompanied  by  many 
other  cavaliers,  they  abandoned  the  court  and 
took  post  in  Montefrio.  Thence  Abdelbar 
wrote  to  Prince  Aben  Ismael,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  Castile,  inviting  him  to  the  camp, 


Blbambra 


offering  to  support  his  pretensions  to  the 
throne,  and  advising  him  to  leave  Castile 
secretly,  lest  his  departure  should  be  opposed 
by  King  Juan  II.  The  prince,  however,  con- 
fiding in  the  generosity  of  the  Castilian 
monarch,  told  frankly  the  whole  matter.  He 
was  not  mistaken.  King  Juan  not  merely 
gave  him  permission  to  depart,  but  promised 
him  aid,  and  gave  him  letters  to  that  effect  to 
his  commanders  on  the  frontiers.  Aben  Ismael 
departed  with  a  brilliant  escort,  arrived  in 
safety  at  Montefrio,  and  was  proclaimed  King 
of  Granada  by  Abdelbar  and  his  partisans,  the 
most  important  of  whom  were  the  Abencer- 
rages.  A  long  course  of  civil  wars  ensued 
between  the  two  cousins,  rivals  for  the  throne. 
Aben  Osmyn  was  aided  by  the  kings  of 
Navarre  and  Aragon,  while  Juan  II.,  at  war 
with  his  rebellious  subjects,  could  give  little 
assistance  to  Aben  Ismael. 

Thus  for  several  years  the  country  was  torn 
by  internal  strife  and  desolated  by  foreign 
inroads,  so  that  scarce  a  field  but  was  stained 
with  blood.  Aben  Osmyn  was  brave,  and 
often  signalized  himself  in  arms  ;  but  he  was 
cruel  and  despotic,  and  ruled  with  an  iron 
hand.  He  offended  the  nobles  by  his  caprices, 
and  the  populace  by  his  tyranny,  while  his 
rival  cousin  conciliated  all  hearts  by  his 


Bbencerrages 


benignity.  Hence  there  were  continual  deser- 
tions from  Granada  to  the  fortified  camp  at 
Montefrio,  and  the  party  of  Aben  Ismael  was 
constantly  gaining  strength.  At  length  the 
King  of  Castile,  having  made  peace  with  the 
kings  of  Aragon  and  Navarre,  was  enabled  to 
send  a  choice  body  of  troops  to  the  assistance 
of  Aben  Ismael.  The  latter  now  left  his 
trenches  in  Montefrio,  and  took  the  field.  The 
combined  forces  marched  upon  Granada.  Aben 
Osmyn  sallied  forth  to  the  encounter.  A  bloody 
battle  ensued,  in  which  both  of  the  rival 
cousins  fought  with  heroic  valor.  Aben  Osmyn 
was  defeated  and  driven  back  to  his  gates.  He 
summoned  the  inhabitants  to  arms,  but  few 
answered  to  his  call  ;  his  cruelty  had  alienated 
all  hearts.  Seeing  his  fortunes  at  an  end,  he 
determined  to  close  his  career  by  a  signal  act 
of  vengeance.  Shutting  himself  up  in  the 
Alhambra,  he  summoned  thither  a  number  of 
the  principal  cavaliers  whom  he  suspected  of 
disloyalty.  As  they  entered,  they  were  one 
by  one  put  to  death.  This  is  supposed  by 
some  to  be  the  massacre  which  gave  its  fatal 
name  to  the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  Having 
perpetrated  this  atrocious  act  of  vengeance, 
and  hearing  by  the  shouts  of  the  populace 
that  Aben  Ismael  was  already  proclaimed 
king  in  the  city,  he  escaped  with  his  satellites 


Blbambra 


by  the  Cerro  del  Sol  and  the  valley  of  the 
Darro  to  the  Alpuxarra  Mountains  ;  where  he 
and  his  followers  led  a  kind  of  robber  life, 
laying  villages  and  roads  under  contribution. 

Aben  Ismael  II.,  who  thus  attained  the 
throne  in  1454,  secured  the  friendship  of  King 
Juan  II.  by  acts  of  homage  and  magnificent 
presents.  He  gave  liberal  rewards  to  those 
who  had  been  faithful  to  him,  and  consoled 
the  families  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  his 
cause.  During  his  reign,  the  Abencerrages 
were  again  among  the  most  favored  of  the 
brilliant  chivalry  that  graced  his  court.  Aben 
Ismael,  however,  was  not  of  a  warlike  spirit  ; 
his  reign  was  distinguished  rather  by  works 
of  public  utility,  the  ruins  of  some  of  which 
are  still  to  be  seen  on  the  Cerro  del  Sol. 

In  the  same  year  of  1454  Juan  II.  died,  and 
was  succeeded  by  Henry  IV.  of  Castile,  sur- 
named  the  Impotent.  Aben  Ismael  neglected 
to  renew  the  league  of  amity  with  him  which 
had  existed  with  his  predecessor,  as  he  found 
it  to  be  unpopular  with  the  people  of  Granada. 
King  Henry  resented  the  omissions,  and, 
under  pretext  of  arrears  of  tribute,  made  re- 
peated forays  into  the  kingdom  of  Granada. 
He  gave  countenance  also  to  Aben  Osmyn  and 
his  robber  hordes,  and  took  some  of  them  into 
pay  ;  but  his  proud  cavaliers  refused  to  asso- 


Bbencerrages 


185 


ciate  with  infidel  outlaws,  and  determined  to 
seize  Aben  Osmyn  ;  who,  however,  made  his 
escape,  first  to  Seville,  and  thence  to  Castile. 

In  the  year  1456,  on  the  occasion  of  a  great 
foray  into  the  Vega  by  the  Christians,  Aben 
Ismael,  to  secure  a  peace,  agreed  to  pay  the 
King  of  Castile  a  certain  tribute  annually,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  liberate  six  hundred  Chris- 
tian captives  ;  or,  should  the  number  of  cap- 
tives fall  short,  to  make  it  up  in  Moorish 
hostages.  Aben  Ismael  fulfilled  the  rigorous 
terms  of  the  treaty,  and  reigned  for  a  number 
of  years  with  more  tranquillity  than  usually 
fell  to  the  lot  of  the  monarchs  of  that  bel- 
ligerent kingdom.  Granada  enjoyed  a  great 
state  of  prosperity  during  his  reign,  and  was 
the  seat  of  festivity  and  splendor.  His  sultana 
was  a  daughter  of  Cid  Hiaya  Abraham  Al- 
nayar,  Prince  of  Almeria  ;  and  he  had  by  her 
two  sons,  Abul  Hassan,  and  Abi  Abdallah, 
surnamed  El  Zagal,  the  father  and  uncle  of 
Boabdil.  We  approach  now  the  eventful  period 
signalized  by  the  conquest  of  Granada. 

Muley  Abul  Hassan  succeeded  to  the  throne 
on  the  death  of  his  father  in  1465.  One  of 
his  first  acts  was  to  refuse  payment  of  the 
degrading  tribute  exacted  by  the  Castilian 
monarch.  His  refusal  was  one  of  the  causes  of 
the  subsequent  disastrous  war.  I  confine 


1 86 


Blbambra 


myself,  however,  to  facts  connected  with  the 
fortunes  of  the  Abencerrages  and  the  charges 
advanced  against  Boabdil. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  Don  Pedro 
Venegas,  surnamed  El  Tornadizo,  when  he 
fled  from  Granada  in  1433,  left  behind  him 
two  sons,  Abul  Cacim  and  Reduan,  and  a 
daughter,  Cetimerien.  They  always  enjoyed 
a  distinguished  rank  in  Granada,  from  their 
royal  descent  by  the  mother's  side,  and  from 
being  connected,  through  the  princes  of  Al- 
meria,  with  the  last  and  the  present  king. 
The  sons  had  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  talents  and  bravery,  and  the  daughter 
Cetimerien  was  married  to  Cid  Hiaya,  grand- 
son of  King  Yusef  and  brother-in-law  of  El 
Zagal.  Thus  powerfully  connected,  it  is  not 
surprising  to  find  Abul  Cacim  Venegas  ad- 
vanced to  the  post  of  vizier  of  Muley  Abul 
Hassan,  and  Reduan  Venegas  one  of  his  most 
favored  generals.  Their  rise  was  regarded 
with  an  evil  eye  by  the  Abencerrages,  who 
remembered  the  disasters  brought  upon  their 
family,  and  the  deaths  of  so  many  of  their 
line,  in  the  war  fomented  by  the  intrigues 
of  Don  Pedro  in  the  days  of  Yusef  Aben 
Alhamar.  A  feud  had  existed  ever  since 
between  the  Abencerrages  and  the  house  of 
Venegas.  It  was  soon  to  be  aggravated  by 


Bbcncerrages 


187 


a  formidable  schism  which  took  place  in  the 
royal  harem. 

Muley  Abul  Hassan,  in  his  youthful  days, 
had  married  his  cousin,  the  Princess  Ayxa  la 
Horra,  daughter  of  his  uncle,  the  ill-starred 
sultan,  Muhamed  the  lycft-Handed  *  ;  by  her 
he  had  two  sons,  the  eldest  of  whom  was 
Boabdil,  heir  presumptive  to  the  throne.  Un- 
fortunately at  an  advanced  age  he  took  an- 
other wife,  Isabella  de  Solis,  a  young  and 
beautiful  Christian  captive,  better  known  by 
her  Moorish  appellation  of  Zoraya ;  by  her 
he  had  also  two  sons.  Two  factions  were 
produced  in  the  palace  by  the  rivalry  of  the 
sultanas,  who  were  each  anxious  to  secure  for 
their  children  the  succession  to  the  throne. 
Zoraya  was  supported  by  the  vizier  Abul 
Cacim  Venegas,  his  brother  Reduan  Venegas, 
and  their  numerous  connections,  partly  through 
sympathy  with  her  as  being,  like  themselves, 
of  Christian  lineage,  and  partly  because  they 
saw  she  was  the  favorite  of  the  doting  mon- 
arch. 

The  Abencerrages,  on  the  contrary,  rallied 
round  the  Sultana  Ayxa ,  partly  through 
hereditary  opposition  to  the  family  of  Vene- 
gas, but  chiefly,  no  doubt,  through  a  strong 
feeling  of  loyalty  to  her  as  daughter  of 
*  Al  Makkari,  B.  viii.,  c.  7. 


2Ubambra 


Muhamed  el  Hayzari,  the  ancient  benefactor 
of  their  line. 

The  dissensions  of  the  palace  went  on  in- 
creasing. Intrigues  of  all  kinds  took  place,  as 
is  usual  in  royal  palaces.  Suspicions  were 
artfully  instilled  in  the  mind  of  Muley  Abul 
Hassan  that  Ayxa  was  engaged  in  a  plot  to 
depose  him  and  put  her  son  Boabdil  on  the 
throne.  In  his  first  transports  of  rage  he  con- 
fined them  both  in  the  Tower  of  Comares, 
threatening  the  life  of  Boabdil.  At  dead  of 
night  the  anxious  mother  lowered  her  son  from 
a  window  of  the  tower  by  the  scarfs  of  herself 
and  her  female  attendants ;  and  some  of  her 
adherents,  who  were  in  waiting  with  swift 
horses,  bore  him  away  to  the  Alpuxarras.  It 
is  this  imprisonment  of  the  Sultana  Ayxa 
which  possibly  gave  rise  to  the  fable  of  the 
queen  of  Boabdil  being  confined  by  him  in  a 
tower  to  be  tried  for  her  life.  No  other  shadow 
of  a  ground  exists  for  it,  and  here  we  find  the 
tyrant  jailer  was  his  father,  and  the  captive 
sultana  his  mother. 

The  massacre  of  the  Abencerrages  in  the 
halls  of  the  Alhambra  is  placed  by  some  about 
this  time,  and  attributed  also  to  Muley  Abul 
Hassan,  on  suspicion  of  their  being  concerned 
in  the  conspiracy.  The  sacrifice  of  a  number 
of  the  cavaliers  of  that  line  is  said  to  have  been 


Torre  de  la  Cautiva. 


Ube  Bbencerrages 


189 


suggested  by  the  vizier  Abul  Cacim  Venegas, 
as  a  means  of  striking  terror  into  the  rest.*  If 
such  were  really  the  case,  the  barbarous  meas- 
ure proved  abortive.  The  Abencerrages  con- 
tinued intrepid,  as  they  were  loyal,  in  their 
adherence  to  the  cause  of  Ayxa  and  her  son 
Boabdil,  .throughout  the  war  which  ensued, 
while  the  Venegas  were  ever  foremost  in  the 
ranks  of  Muley  Abul  Hassan  and  Kl  Zagal. 
The  ultimate  fortune  of  these  rival  families  is 
worthy  of  note.  The  Venegas,  in  the  last 
struggle  of  Granada,  were  among  those  who 
submitted  to  the  conquerors,  renounced  the 
Moslem  creed,  returned  to  the  faith  from  which 
their  ancestor  had  apostatized,  were  rewarded 
with  offices  and  estates,  intermarried  with 
Spanish  families,  and  have  left  posterity  among 
the  nobles  of  the  land.  The  Abencerrages 
remained  true  to  their  faith,  true  to  their  king, 
true  to  their  desperate  cause,  and  went  down 
with  tho  foundering  wreck  of  Moslem  domina- 
tion, leaving  nothing  behind  them  but  a  gallant 
and  romantic  name  in  history. 

In  this  historical  outline,  I  trust  I  have 
shown  enough  to  put  the  fable  concerning 

*  Alcantara,  "Hist.  Granad.,"  c.  17.  See  also  Al 
Makkari,  "Hist.  Mohama.  Dynasties,"  B.  viii.  c.  7, 
with  the  "  Commentaries  of  Don  Pascual  de  Guyan- 
gos." 


•?)     1  •(/< 


igo 


Blbambra 


Boabdil  and  the  Abencerrages  in  a  true  light. 
The  story  of  the  accusation  of  his  queen,  and 
his  cruelty  to  his  sister,  are  equally  void  of 
foundation.  In  his  domestic  relations  he  ap- 
pears to  have  been  kind  and  affectionate. 
History  gives  him  but  one  wife,  Morayma,  the 
daughter  of  the  veteran  Alcayde  of  Loxa,  old 
Aliatar,  famous  in  song  and  story  for  his  ex- 
ploits in  border  warfare,  and  who  fell  in  that 
disastrous  foray  into  the  Christian  lands  in 
which  Boabdil  was  taken  prisoner.  Morayma 
was  true  to  Boabdil  throughout  all  his  vicissi- 
tudes. When  he  was  dethroned  by  the  Cas- 
tilian  monarchs,  she  retired  with  him  to  the 
petty  domain  allotted  him  in  the  valleys  of  the 
Alpuxarras.  It  was  only  when  (dispossessed 
of  this  by  the  jealous  precautions  and  subtle 
chicanery  of  Ferdinand,  and  elbowed,  as  it 
were,  out  of  his  native  land)  he  was  preparing 
to  embark  for  Africa,  that  her  health  and 
spirits,  exhausted  by  anxiety  and  long  suffer- 
ing, gave  way,  and  she  fell  into  a  lingering 
illness  aggravated  by  corroding  melancholy. 
Boabdil  was  constant  and  affectionate  to  her  to 
the  last ;  the  sailing  of  the  ships  was  delayed 
for  several  weeks,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the 
suspicious  Ferdinand.  At  length  Morayma 
sank  into  the  grave,  evidently  the  victim  of  a 
broken  heart,  and  the  event  was  reported  to 


ube  Bbencerrages 


Ferdinand  by  his  agent  as  one  propitious  to  his 
purposes,  removing  the  only  obstacle  to  the 
embarkation  of  Boabdil. 


*  For  authorities  for  these  latter  facts,  see  the  Appen- 
dix to  the  author's  revised  edition  of  the  "  Conquest 
of  Granada." 


/IDementos  of  JBoab&U. 


WHIIyK  my  mind  was  still  warm  with 
the  subject  of  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil,  I  set  forth  to  trace  the  mementos 
of  him  still  existing  in  this  scene  of  his  sove- 
reignty and  misfortunes.  In  the  Tower  of  Co- 
mares,  immediately  under  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors, are  two  vaulted  rooms,  separated  by  a 
narrow  passage.  These  are  said  to  have  been 
the  prisons  of  himself  and  his  mother,  the 
virtuous  Ayxa  la  Horra.  Indeed,  no  other 
part  of  the  tower  would  have  served  for  the 
purpose.  The  external  walls  of  these  chambers 
are  of  prodigious  thickness,  pierced  with  small 
windows  secured  by  iron  bars.  A  narrow 
stone  gallery,  with  a  low  parapet,  extends 
along  three  sides  of  the  tower  just  below  the 
windows,  but  at  a  considerable  height  from  the 
ground.  From  this  gallery,  it  is  presumed, 
the  queen  lowered  her  son  with  the  scarfs  of 
herself  and  her  female  attendants  during  the 


Mementos  of 


193 


darkness  of  the  night  to  the  hillside,  where 
some  of  his  faithful  adherents  waited  with  fleet 
steeds  to  bear  him  to  the  mountains. 

Between  three  and  four  hundred  years  have 
elapsed,  yet  this  scene  of  the  drama  remains 
almost  unchanged.  As  I  paced  the  gallery, 
my  imagination  pictured  the  anxious  queen 
leaning  over  the  parapet,  listening,  with  the 
throbbings  of  a  mother's  heart,  to  the  last 
echoes  of  the  horses'  hoofs  as  her  son  scoured 
along  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro. 

I  next  sought  the  gate  by  which  Boabdil 
made  his  last  exit  from  the  Alhambra,  when 
about  to  surrender  his  capital  and  kingdom. 
With  the  melancholy  caprice  of  a  broken  spirit, 
or  perhaps  with  some  superstitious  feeling,  he 
requested  of  the  Catholic  monarchs  that  no  one 
afterwards  might  be  permitted  to  pass  through 
it.  His  prayer,  according  to  ancient  chroni- 
cles, was  complied  with,  through  the  sympathy 
of  Isabella,  and  the  gate  was  walled  up.* 

I  inquired  for  some  time  in  vain  for  such  a 

*  Ay  una  puerta  en  la  Alhambra  por  la  qual  salio 
Chico  Rey  de  los  Moros,  quando  si  rindio  prisionero 
al  Rey  de  Espana  D.  Fernando,  y  le  entreg6  la  ciudad 
con  el  Castillo.  Pidio  esta  principe  como  por  merced, 
y  en  memoria  de  tan  importante  conquista,  al  que 
quedasse  siempre  cerrada  esta  puerta.  Consintio  en 
allo  el  Rey  Fernando,  y  des  de  aquel  tiempo  no  sola- 
mente  no  se  abrio  la  puerta  sino  tatnbien  se  construyo 


1 

i 


194 


Slbambra 


portal.  At  length  my  humble  attendant, 
Mateo  Ximenes,  said  it  must  be  one  closed  up 
with  stones,  which,  according  to  what  he  had 
heard  from  his  father  and  grandfather,  was  the 
gateway  by  which  King  Chico  had  left  the 
fortress.  There  was  a  mystery  about  it,  and  it 
had  never  been  opened  within  the  memory  of 
the  oldest  inhabitant. 

He  conducted  me  to  the  spot.  The  gateway 
is  in  the  centre  of  what  was  once  an  immense 
pile,  called  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors  (L,a 
Torre  de  los  Siete  Suelos).  It  is  famous  in  the 
neighborhood  as  the  scene  of  strange  appari- 
tions and  Moorish  enchantments.  According 
to  Swinburne,  the  traveller,  it  was  originally 
the  great  gate  of  entrance.  The  antiquaries  of 
Granada  pronounce  it  the  entrance  to  that 
quarter  of  the  royal  residence  where  the  king's 
body-guards  were  stationed.  It,  therefore, 
might  well  form  an  immediate  entrance  and 
exit  to  the  palace ;  while  the  grand  Gate  of 
Justice  served  as  the  entrance  of  state  to  the 
fortress.  When  Boabdil  sallied  by  this  gate  to 
descend  to  the  Vega,  where  he  was  to  surrender 
the  keys  of  the  city  to  the  Spanish  sovereigns, 
he  left  his  vizier,  Aben  Comixa,  to  receive  at 
the  Gate  of  Justice  the  detachment  from  the 

junto  a  ella  fuerte  bastion. — Moreri's  "Historical 
Dictionary,"  Spanish  edition,  vol.  i.,  p.  372. 


Mementos  of  JBoab&il  195 

Christian  army  and  the  officers  to  whom  the 
fortress  was  to  be  given  up.* 

The  once  redoubtable  Tower  of  the  Seven 
Floors  is  now  a  mere  wreck,  having  been 
blown  up  with  gunpowder  by  the  French, 
when  they  abandoned  the  fortress.  Great 
masses  of  the  wall  lie  scattered  about,  buried 
in  luxuriant  herbage,  or  overshadowed  by 
vines  and  fig-trees.  The  arch  of  the  gateway, 
though  rent  by  the  shock,  still  remains  ;  but 
the  last  wish  of  poor  Boabdil  has  again,  though 
unintentionally,  been  fulfilled,  for  the  portal 
has  been  closed  up  by  loose  stones  gathered 
from  the  ruins,  and  remains  impassable. 

Mounting  my  horse,  I  followed  up  the  route 
of  the  Moslem  monarch  from  this  place  of  his 
exit.  Crossing  the  hill  of  Los  Martyros,  and 
keeping  along  the  garden  wall  of  a  convent 
bearing  the  same  name,  I  descended  a  rugged 
ravine  beset  by  thickets  of  aloes  and  Indian 
figs,  and  lined  with  caves  and  hovels  swarming 
with  gypsies.  The  descent  was  so  steep  and 
broken  that  I  was  fain  to  alight  and  lead  my 
horse.  By  this  via  dolorosa  poor  Boabdil  took 

*  The  minor  details  of  the  surrender  of  Granada 
have  been  stated  in  different  ways  even  by  eye- 
witnesses. The  author,  in  his  revised  edition  of  the 
"  Conquest,"  has  endeavored  to  adjust  them  according 
to  the  latest  and  apparently  best  authorities. 


Ebe  Blbambra 

his  sad  departure  to  avoid  passing  through  the 
city ;  partly,  perhaps,  through  unwillingness 
that  its  inhabitants  should  behold  his  humilia- 
tion ;  but  chiefly,  in  all  probability,  lest  it 
might  cause  some  popular  agitation.  For  the 
last  reason,  undoubtedly,  the  detachment  sent 
to  take  possession  of  the  fortress  ascended  by 
the  same  route. 

Emerging  from  this  rough  ravine,  so  full  of 
melancholy  associations,  and  passing  by  the 
Puerta  de  los  Molinos  (the  Gate  of  the  Hills),  I 
issued  forth  upon  the  public  promenade  called 
the  Prado ;  and  pursuing  the  course  of  the 
Xenil,  arrived  at  a  small  chapel,  once  a  mosque, 
now  the  Hermitage  of  San  Sebastian.  Here, 
according  to  tradition,  Boabdil  surrendered  the 
keys  of  Granada  to  King  Ferdinand.  I  rode 
slowly  thence  across  the  Vega  to  a  village 
where  the  family  and  household  of  the  un- 
happy king  awaited  him,  for  he  had  sent  them 
forward  on  the  preceding  night  from  the  Al- 
hambra,  that  his  mother  and  wife  might  not 
participate  in  his  personal  humiliation,  or  be 
exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  conquerors.  Fol- 
lowing on  in  the  route  of  the  melancholy  band 
of  royal  exiles,  I  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  chain 
of  barren  and  dreary  heights,  forming  the  skirt 
of  the  Alpuxarra  mountains.  From  the  sum- 
mit of  one  of  these  the  unfortunate  Boabdil 


Aementos  of  JBoab&tl 


197 


took  his  last  look  at  Granada  ;  it  bears  a  name 
expressive  of  his  sorrows,  La  Cuesta  de  las 
Lagrimas  (the  Hill  of  Tears).  Beyond  it,  a 
sandy  road  winds  across  a  rugged,  cheerless 
waste,  doubly  dismal  to  the  unhappy  monarch, 
as  it  led  to  exile. 

I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  summit  of  a  rock, 
where  Boabdil  uttered  his  last  sorrowful  ex- 
clamation, as  he  turned  his  eyes  from  taking  a 
farewell  gaze  :  it  is  still  denominated  El  Ultimo 
Suspiro  del  Moro  (the  Last  Sigh  of  the  Moor). 
Who  can  wonder  at  his  anguish  at  being  ex- 
pelled from  such  a  kingdom  and  such  an 
abode  ?  With  the  Alhambra  he  seemed  to  be 
yielding  up  all  the  honors  of  his  line,  and  all 
the  glories  and  delights  of  life. 

It  was  here,  too,  that  his  affliction  was  embit- 
tered by  the  reproach  of  his  mother,  Ayxa,  who 
had  so  often  assisted  him  in  times  of  peril,  and 
had  vainly  sought  to  instil  into  him  her  own 
resolute  spirit.  "You  do  well,"  said  she,  "  to 
weep  as  a  woman  over  what  you  could  not 
defend  as  a  man  "  ;  a  speech  savoring  more  of 
the  pride  of  the  princess  than  the  tenderness 
of  the  mother. 

When  this  anecdote  was  related  to  Charles 
V.,  by  Bishop  Guevara,  the  emperor  joined  in 
the  expression  of  scorn  at  the  weakness  of  the 
wavering  Boabdil.  ' '  Had  I  been  he,  or  he 


Blbambra 


been  I,"  said  the  haughty  potentate,  "  I  would 
rather  have  made  this  Alhambra  my  sepulchre 
than  have  lived  without  a  kingdom  in  the  Al- 
puxarra."  How  easy  it  is  for  those  in  power 
and  prosperity  to  preach  heroism  to  the  van- 
quished !  How  little  can  they  understand  that 
life  itself  may  rise  in  value  with  the  unfortu- 
nate, when  naught  but  life  remains  ! 

Slowly  descending  the  Hill  of  Tears,  I  let  my 
horse  take  his  own  loitering  gait  back  to  Gra- 
nada, while  I  turned  the  story  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Boabdil  over  in  my  mind.  In  summoning 
up  the  particulars,  I  found  the  balance  inclining 
in  his  favor.  Throughout  the  whole  of  his 
brief,  turbulent,  and  disastrous  reign,  he  gives 
evidence  of  a  mild  and  amiable  character.  He, 
in  the  first  instance,  won  the  hearts  of  his 
people  by  his  affable  and  gracious  manners ; 
he  was  always  placable,  and  never  inflicted 
any  severity  of  punishment  upon  those  who 
occasionally  rebelled  against  him.  He  was 
personally  brave,  but  wanted  moral  courage  ; 
and,  in  times  of  difficulty  and  perplexity,  was 
wavering  and  irresolute.  This  feebleness  of 
spirit  hastened  his  downfall,  while  it  deprived 
him  of  that  heroic  grace  which  would  have 
given  grandeur  and  dignity  to  his  fate,  and 
rendered  him  worthy  of  closing  the  splendid 
drama  of  the  Moslem  domination  in  Spain. 


public  ffetes  of  (Branafca. 

MY  devoted  squire  and  whilom  ragged 
cicerone  Mateo  Ximenes  had  a  poor- 
devil  passion  for  fetes  and  holidays, 
and  was  never  so  eloquent  as  when  detailing 
the  civil  and  religious  festivals  at  Granada. 
During  the  preparations  for  the  annual  Cath- 
olic fete  of  Corpus  Christi,  he  was  in  a  state  of 
incessant  transition  between  the  Alhambra  and 
the  subjacent  city,  bringing  me  daily  accounts 
of  the  magnificent  arrangements  that  were  in 
progress,  and  endeavoring,  but  in  vain,  to  lure 
me  down  from  my  cool  and  airy  retreat  to  wit- 
ness them.  At  length,  on  the  eve  of  the 
eventful  day,  I  yielded  to  his  solicitations,  and 
descended  from  the  regal  halls  of  the  Alhambra 
under  his  escort,  as  did  of  yore  the  adventure- 
seeking  Haroun  Alraschid  under  that  of  his 
Grand  Vizier  Giaffar.  Though  it  was  yet 
scarce  sunset,  the  city  gates  were  already 
thronged  with  the  picturesque  villagers  of  the 


Blbambca 


mountains,  and  the  brown  peasantry  of  the 
Vega.  Granada  has  ever  been  the  rallying- 
place  of  a  great  mountainous  region,  studded 
with  towns  and  villages.  Hither,  during  the 
Moorish  domination,  the  chivalry  of  this  re- 
gion repaired,  to  join  in  the  splendid  and  semi- 
warlike  fe~tes  of  the  Vivarrambla  ;  and  hither 
the  elite  of  its  population  still  resort  to  join 
in  the  pompous  ceremonials  of  the  Church. 
Indeed,  many  of  the  mountaineers  from  the 
Alpuxarras  and  the  Sierra  de  Ronda,  who  now 
bow  to  the  cross  as  zealous  Catholics,  bear 
the  stamp  of  their  Moorish  origin,  and  are 
indubitable  descendants  of  the  fickle  subjects 
of  Boabdil. 

Under  the  guidance  of  Mateo,  I  made  my 
way  through  streets  already  teeming  with  a 
holiday  population,  to  the  square  of  the  Vivar- 
rambla, that  great  place  for  tilts  and  tourneys 
so  often  sung  in  the  Moorish  ballads  of  love 
and  chivalry.  A  gallery  or  arcade  of  wood 
had  been  erected  along  the  sides  of  the  square, 
for  the  grand  religious  procession  of  the  fol- 
lowing day.  This  was  brilliantly  illuminated 
for  the  evening  as  a  promenade  ;  and  bands  of 
music  were  stationed  on  balconies  on  each  of 
the  four  fa£ades  of  the  square.  All  the  fashion 
and  beauty  of  Granada,  all  of  its  population  of 
either  sex  that  had  good  looks  or  fine  clothes 


public  ffetes  of  (SranaDa  201 

to  display,  thronged  this  arcade,  promenading 
round  and  round  the  Vivarrambla.  Here,  too, 
were  the  majos  and  ma/as,  the  rural  beaux  and 
belles,  with  fine  forms,  flashing  eyes,  and  gay 
Andalusian  costumes ;  some  of  them  from 
Ronda  itself,  that  stronghold  of  the  mountains, 
famous  for  contrabandistas,  bull-fighters,  and 
beautiful  women. 

While  this  gay  but  motley  throng  kept  up  a 
constant  circulation  in  the  gallery,  the  centre 
of  the  square  was  occupied  by  the  peasantry 
from  the  surrounding  country,  who  made  no 
pretensions  to  display,  but  came  for  simple, 
hearty  enjoyment.  The  whole  square  was 
covered  with  them ;  forming  separate  groups 
of  families  and  neighborhoods,  like  gipsy  en- 
campments. Some  wrere  listening  to  the  tradi- 
tional ballad,  drawled  out  to  the  tinkling  of 
the  guitar  ;  some  were  engaged  in  gay  con- 
versation ;  some  were  dancing  to  the  click  of 
the  Castanet.  As  I  threaded  my  way  through 
this  teeming  region,  with  Mateo  at  my  heels,  I 
passed  occasionally  some  rustic  party,  seated 
on  the  ground,  making  a  merry  though  frugal 
repast.  If  they  caught  my  eye  as  I  loitered 
by,  they  almost  invariably  invited  me  to  par- 
take of  their  simple  fare.  This  hospitable 
usage,  inherited  from  their  Moslem  invaders, 
and  originating  in  the  tent  of  the  Arab,  is  uni- 


tlbe  Blbambra 


versal  throughout  the  land,  and  observed  by 
the  poorest  Spaniard. 

As  the  night  advanced,  the  gayety  gradually 
died  away  in  the  arcades,  the  bands  of  music 
ceased  to  play,  and  the  brilliant  crowd  dis- 
persed to  their  homes.  The  centre  of  the 
square  still  remained  well  peopled,  and  Mateo 
assured  me  that  the  greater  part  of  the 
peasantry,  men,  women  and  children,  would 
pass  the  night  there,  sleeping  on  the  bare 
earth,  beneath  the  open  canopy  of  heaven. 
Indeed,  a  summer  night  requires  no  shelter  in 
this  favored  climate  ;  and  a  bed  is  a  superfluity 
which  many  of  the  hardy  peasantry  of  Spain 
never  enjoy,  and  which  some  of  them  affect  to 
despise.  The  common  Spaniard  wraps  himself 
in  his  brown  cloak,  stretches  himself  on  his 
•mania  or  mule-cloth,  and  sleeps  soundly, 
luxuriously  accommodated  if  he  can  have  a 
saddle  for  a  pillow.  In  a  little  while  the  words 
of  Mateo  were  made  good  ;  the  peasant  multi- 
tude nestled  down  on  the  ground  to  their 
night's  repose,  and  by  midnight  the  scene  on 
the  Vivarrambla  resembled  the  bivouac  of  an 
army. 

The  next  morning,  accompanied  by  Mateo, 
I  revisited  the  square  at  sunrise.  It  was  still 
strewed  with  groups  of  sleepers.  Some  were 
reposing  from  the  dance  and  revel  of  the  even- 


public  $£te8  of  (BranaDa 


203 


ing ;  others,  who  had  left  their  villages  after 
work  on  the  preceding  day,  having  trudged  on 
foot  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  were  taking 
a  sound  sleep  to  freshen  themselves  for  the 
festivities  of  the  day.  Numbers  from  the 
mountains,  and  the  remote  villages  of  the 
plain,  who  had  set  out  in  the  night,  continued 
to  arrive  with  their  wives  and  children.  All 
were  in  high  spirits,  greeting  each  other  and 
exchanging  jokes  and  pleasantries.  The  gay 
tumult  thickened  as  the  day  advanced.  Now 
came  pouring  in  at  the  city  gates,  and  parading 
through  the  streets,  the  deputations  from  the 
various  villages,  destined  to  swell  the  grand 
procession.  These  village  deputations  were 
headed  by  their  priests,  bearing  their  respective 
crosses  and  banners,  and  images  of  the  blessed 
Virgin  and  of  patron  saints ;  all  which  were 
matters  of  great  rivalship  and  jealousy  among 
the  peasantry.  It  was  like  the  chivalrous 
gatherings  of  ancient  days,  when  each  town 
and  village  sent  its  chiefs,  and  warriors,  and 
standards,  to  defend  the  capital,  or  grace  its 
festivities. 

At  length  all  these  various  detachments 
congregated  into  one  grand  pageant,  which 
slowly  paraded  round  the  Vivarrambla,  and 
through  the  principal  streets,  where  every 
window  and  balcony  was  hung  with  tapestry. 


C^N<!^3 


2CM 


tTbe  Blbambra 


In  this  procession  were  all  the  religious  orders, 
the  civil  and  military  authorities,  and  the  chief 
people  of  the  parishes  and  villages.  Every 
church  and  convent  had  contributed  its  ban- 
ners, its  images,  its  relics,  and  poured  forth  its 
wealth  for  the  occasion.  In  the  centre  of  the 
procession  walked  the  archbishop,  under  a 
damask  canopy,  and  surrounded  by  inferior 
dignitaries  and  their  dependants.  The  whole 
moved  to  the  swell  and  cadence  of  numerous 
bands  of  music,  and,  passing  through  the 
midst  of  a  countless  yet  silent  multitude,  pro- 
ceeded onward  to  the  cathedral. 

I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  changes 
of  times  and  customs  as  I  saw  this  monkish 
pageant  passing  through  the  Vivarrambla,  the 
ancient  seat  of  Moslem  pomp  and  chivalry. 
The  contrast  was,  indeed,  forced  upon  the  mind 
by  the  decorations  of  the  square.  The  whole 
front  of  the  wooden  gallery  erected  for  the 
procession,  extending  several  hundred  feet, 
was  faced  with  canvas,  on  which  some  humble 
though  patriotic  artist  had  painted,  by  con- 
tract, a  series  of  the  principal  scenes  and 
exploits  of  the  Conquest,  as  recorded  in 
chronicle  and  romance.  It  is  thus  the  ro- 
mantic legends  of  Granada  mingle  themselves 
with  everything,  and  are  kept  fresh  in  the 
public  mind. 


public  ff£tes  of  (BranaDa 


205 


As  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  Alham- 
bra,  Mateo  was  in  high  glee  and  garrulous 
vein.  "Ah,  Senor,"  exclaimed  he,  "there  is 
no  place  in  all  the  world  like  Granada  for 
grand  ceremonies  (Junciones  grandes)  ;  a  man 
need  spend  nothing  on  pleasure  here,  it  is  all 
furnished  him  gratis."  Pero  el  Dia  de  la 
Toma  !  ah,  Senor  !  el  Dia  de  la  Toma  !  "  But 
the  Day  of  the  Taking  !  ah,  Senor,  the  Day  of 
the  Taking  !  " — that  was  the  great  day  which 
crowned  Mateo' s  notions  of  perfect  felicity. 
The  Dia  de  la  Toma,  I  found,  was  the  anni- 
versary of  the  capture  or  taking  possession 
of  Granada  by  the  army  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella. 

On  that  day,  according  to  Mateo,  the  whole 
city  is  abandoned  to  revelry.  The  great  alarm- 
bell  on  the  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra  (L,a 
Torre  de  la  Vela)  sends  forth  its  clanging  peals 
from  rnorn  till  night ;  the  sound  pervades  the 
whole  Vega,  and  echoes  along  the  mountains, 
summoning  the  peasantry  from  far  and  near  to 
the  festivities  of  the  metropolis.  ' '  Happy  the 
damsel,"  says  Mateo,  "who  can  get  a  chance 
to  ring  that  bell ;  it  is  a  charm  to  insure  a 
husband  within  the  year." 

Throughout  the  day  the  Alhambra  is  thrown 
open  to  the  public.  Its  halls  and  courts,  where 
the  Moorish  monarchs  once  held  sway,  resound 


Blbambra 


with  the  guitar  and  Castanet,  and  gay  groups, 
in  the  fanciful  dresses  of  Andalusia,  perform 
their  traditional  dances  inherited  from  the 
Moors. 

A  grand  procession,  emblematic  of  the  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  city,  moves  through  the 
principal  streets.  The  banner  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella,  that  precious  relic  of  the  Con- 
quest, is  brought  forth  from  its  depository,  and 
borne  in  triumph  by  the  Alferez  mayor,  or 
grand  standard-bearer.  The  portable  camp- 
altar,  carried  about  with  the  sovereigns  in  all 
their  campaigns,  is  transported  into  the  chapel 
royal  of  the  cathedral  and  placed  before  their 
sepulchre,  where  their  effigies  lie  in  monumen- 
tal marble.  High  mass  is  then  performed  in 
memory  of  the  Conquest  ;  and  at  a  certain 
part  of  the  ceremony  the  Alferez  mayor  puts 
on  his  hat,  and  waves  the  standard  above  the 
tomb  of  the  conquerors. 

A  more  whimsical  memorial  of  the  Conquest 
is  exhibited  in  the  evening  at  the  theatre.  A 
popular  drama  is  performed,  entitled  "Ave 
Maria,"  turning  on  a  famous  achievement  of 
Hernando  del  Pulgar,  '  '  surnamed  HI  de  las 
Hazanas  "  (He  of  the  Exploits),  a  madcap 
warrior,  the  favorite  hero  of  the  populace  of 
Granada.  During  the  time  of  the  siege  the 
young  Moorish  and  Spanish  cavaliers  vied 


Torre  de  los  Hidalgos,  from  the    Torre 
de  la  Vela. 


with 


youi- 


the 


Public  JFctes  of  <3ranada 


207 


with  each  other  in  extravagant  bravadoes. 
On  one  occasion  this  Hernando  del  Pulgar, 
at  the  head  of  a  handful  of  followers,  made  a 
dash  into  Granada  in  the  dead  of  the  night, 
nailed  the  inscription  of  "  Ave  Maria ' '  with  his 
dagger  to  the  gate  of  the  principal  mosque,  a 
token  of  having  consecrated  it  to  the  Virgin, 
and  effected  his  retreat  in  safety.* 

While  the  Moorish  cavaliers  admired  this 
daring  exploit  they  felt  bound  to  resent  it. 
On  the  following  day,  therefore,  Tarfe,  one  of 
the  stoutest  among  them,  paraded  in  front  of 
the  Christian  army,  dragging  the  tablet  bear- 
ing the  sacred  inscription  "  Ave  Maria  "  at  his 
horse's  tail.  The  cause  of  the  Virgin  was 
eagerly  vindicated  by  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega, 
who  slew  the  Moor  in  single  combat,  and 
elevated  the  tablet  in  devotion  and  triumph 
at  the  end  of  his  lance. 

The  drama  founded  on  this  exploit  is  pro- 
digiously popular  with  the  common  people. 
Although  it  has  been  acted  time  out  of  mind, 
it  never  fails  to  draw  crowds,  who  become 
completely  lost  in  the  delusions  of  the  scene. 
When  their  favorite  Pulgar  strides  about  with 
many  a  mouthy  speech,  in  the  very  midst  of 
the  Moorish  capital,  he  is  cheered  with  enthu- 

*  See  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  exploit  in  the 
chronicle  of  the  "  Conquest  of  Granada." 


208 


aibambra 


siastic  bravos  ;  and  when  he  nails  the  tablet  to 
the  door  of  the  mosque,  the  theatre  absolutely 
shakes  with  the  thunders  of  applause.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  unlucky  actors  who  figure  in 
the  part  of  the  Moors,  have  to  bear  the  brunt 
of  popular  indignation  ;  which  at  times  equals 
that  of  the  Hero  of  L,amanche  at  the  puppet- 
show  of  Gines  de  Passamonte  ;  for,  when  the 
infidel  Tarfe  plucks  down  the  tablet  to  tie  it 
to  his  horse's  tail,  some  of  the  audience  rise  in 
fury  and  are  ready  to  jump  upon  the  stage  to 
revenge  this  insult  to  the  Virgin. 

By  the  way,  the  actual  lineal  descendant  of 
Hernando  del  Pulgar  was  the  Marquis  de 
Salar.  As  the  legitimate  representative  of 
that  madcap  hero,  and  in  commemoration  and 
reward  of  this  hero's  exploit  above-mentioned, 
he  inherited  the  right  to  enter  the  cathedral  on 
certain  occasions  on  horseback,  to  sit  within 
the  choir,  and  to  put  on  his  hat  at  the  ele- 
vation of  the  host,  though  these  privileges 
were  often  and  obstinately  contested  by  the 
clergy.  I  met  him  occasionally  in  society  ;  he 
was  young,  of  agreeable  appearance  and  man- 
ners, with  bright  black  eyes,  in  which  appeared 
to  lurk  some  of  the  fire  of  his  ancestors.  Among 
the  paintings  in  the  Vivarrambla,  on  the  fete 
of  Corpus  Christi,  were  some  depicting,  in 
vivid  style,  the  exploits  of  the  family  hero. 


public  Sfetes  of  <3ranaDa 


209 


An  old  gray-headed  servant  of  the  Pulgars 
shed  tears  on  beholding  them,  and  hurried 
home  to  inform  the  Marquis.  The  eager  zeal 
and  enthusiasm  of  the  old  domestic  only  pro- 
voked a  light  laugh  from  his  young  master ; 
whereupon,  turning  to  the  brother  of  the 
Marquis,  with  that  freedom  allowed  in  Spain 
to  old  family  servants,  "  Come,  Seiior,"  cried 
he,  ' '  you  are  more  considerate  than  your 
brother ;  come  and  see  your  ancestor  in  all 
his  glory  !  " 

In  emulation  of  this  great  Dia  de  la  Toma  of 
Granada,  almost  every  village  and  petty  town 
of  the  mountains  has  its  own-  anniversary, 
commemorating,  with  rustic  pomp  and  uncouth 
ceremonial,  its  deliverance  from  the  Moorish 
yoke.  On  these  occasions,  according  to  Mateo, 
a  kind  of  resurrection  takes  place  of  ancient 
armor  and  weapons ;  great  two-handed  swords, 
ponderous  arquebuses  with  matchlocks,  and 
other  warlike  relics,  treasured  up  from  gen- 
eration to  generation  since  the  time  -of  the 
Conquest ;  and  happy  the  community  that 
possesses  some  old  piece  of  ordnance,'^ perad- 
venture  one  of  the  identical  lombards  used  by 
the  conquerors ;  it  is  kept  thundering  along 
the  mountains  all  day  long,  provided  the  com- 
munity can  afford  sufficient  expenditure  of 
powder. 


Gbe  2llbambra 


In  the  course  of  the  day  a  kind  of  warlike 
drama  is  enacted.  Some  of  the  populace  parade 
the  streets,  fitted  out  with  the  old  armor,  as 
champions  of  the  faith.  Others  appear  dressed 
up  as  Moorish  warriors.  A  tent  is  pitched  in 
the  public  square,  inclosing  an  altar  with  an 
image  of  the  Virgin.  The  Christian  warriors 
approach  to  perform  their  devotions  ;  the  infi- 
dels surround  the  tent  to  prevent  their  entrance  ; 
a  mock  fight  ensues  ;  the  combatants  sometimes 
forget  that  they  are  merely  playing  a  part,  and 
dry  blows  of  grievous  weight  are  apt  to  be  ex- 
changed. The  contest,  however,  invariably 
terminates  in  favor  of  the  good  cause.  The 
Moors  are  defeated  and  taken  prisoners.  The 
image  of  the  Virgin,  rescued  from  thraldom,  is 
elevated  in  triumph ;  a  grand  procession  suc- 
ceeds, in  which  the  conquerors  figure  with 
great  applause  and  vainglory,  while  their  cap- 
tives are  led  in  chains,  to  the  evident  delight 
and  edification  of  the  spectators. 

These  celebrations  are  heavy  drains  on  the 
treasuries  of  these  petty  communities,  and  have 
sometimes  to  be  suspended  for  want  of  funds  ; 
but  when  times  grow  better,  or  sufficient  money 
has  been  hoarded  for  the  purpose,  they  are  re- 
sumed with  new  zeal  and  prodigality. 

Mateo  informed  me  that  he  had  occasionally 
assisted  at  these  fetes  and  taken  a  part  in  the 


public  ffetcs  of  OranaOa 


combats,  but  always  on  the  side  of  the  true 
faith ;  ' '  porque,  Senor, ' '  added  the  ragged  de- 
scendant of  the  Cardinal  Ximenes,  tapping  his 
breast  with  something  of  an  air, — "  porque, 
Senor,  soy  Christiana  vzejo." 


Xocat  ftrafcitfons. 

THE  common  people  of  Spain  have  an 
Oriental  passion  for  story-telling,  and 
are  fond  of  the  marvellous.  They  will 
gather  round  the  doors  of  their  cottages  in  sum- 
mer evenings,  or  in  the  great  cavernous  chim- 
ney-corners of  the  ventas  in  the  winter,  and 
listen  with  insatiable  delight  to  miraculous 
legends  of  saints,  perilous  adventures  of  travel- 
lers, and  daring  exploits  of  robbers  and  contra- 
bandistas.  The  wild  and  solitary  character  of 
the  country,  the  imperfect  diffusion  of  knowl- 
edge, the  scarceness  of  general  topics  of  con- 
versation, and  the  romantic  adventurous  life 
that  every  one  leads  in  a  land  where  travelling 
is  yet  in  its  primitive  state,  all  contribute  to 
cherish  this  love  of  oral  narration,  and  to  pro- 
duce a  strong  infusion  of  the  extravagant  and 
incredible.  There  is  no  theme,  however,  more 
prevalent  and  popular  than  that  of  treasures 
buried  by  the  Moors ;  it  pervades  the  whole 


Xocal  GraDittons 


213 


country.  In  traversing  the  wild  sierras,  the 
scenes  of  ancient  foray  and  exploit,  you  cannot 
see  a  Moorish  afalaya,  or  watch-tower,  perched 
among  the  cliffs,  or  beetling  above  its  rock- 
built  village,  but  your  muleteer,  on  being 
closely  questioned,  will  suspend  the  smoking 
of  his  cigarillo  to  tell  some  tale  of  Moslem  gold 
buried  beneath  its  foundations  ;  nor  is  there  a 
ruined  alcazar  in  a  city  but  has  its  golden 
tradition,  handed  down  from  generation  to 
generation  among  the  poor  people  of  the 
neighborhood. 

These,  like  most  popular  fictions,  have  sprung 
from  some  scanty  groundwork  of  fact.  During 
the  wars  between  Moor  and  Christian,  which 
distracted  this  country  for  centuries,  towns  and 
castles  were  liable  frequently  and  suddenly  to 
change  owners,  and  the  inhabitants,  during 
sieges  and  assaults,  were  fain  to  bury  their 
money  and  jewels  in  the  earth,  or  hide  them 
in  vaults  and  wells,  as  is  often  done  at  the 
present  day  in  the  despotic  and  belligerent 
countries  of  the  East.  At  the  time  of  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Moors  also,  many  of  them  con- 
cealed their  most  precious  effects,  hoping  that 
their  exile  would  be  but  temporary,  and  that 
they  would  be  enabled  to  return  and  retrieve 
their  treasures  at  some  future  day.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  from  time  to  time  hoards  of  gold  and 


214  £be  Slbambra 

silver  coin  have  been  accidentally  digged  up, 
after  a  lapse  of  centuries,  from  among  the  ruins 
of  Moorish  fortresses  and  habitations ;  and  it 
requires  but  a  few  facts  of  the  kind  to  give  birth 
to  a  thousand  fictions. 

The  stories  thus  originating  have  generally 
something  of  an  Oriental  tinge,  and  are  marked 
with  that  mixture  of  the  Arabic  and  the  Gothic 
which  seems  to  me  to  characterize  everything 
in  Spain,  and  especially  in  its  southern  prov- 
inces. The  hidden  wealth  is  always  laid  under 
magic  spell,  and  secured  by  charm  and  talis- 
man. Sometimes  it  is  guarded  by  uncouth 
monsters  or  fiery  dragons,  sometimes  by  en- 
chanted Moors,  who  sit  by  it  in  armor,  with 
drawn  swords,  but  motionless  as  statues,  main- 
taining a  sleepless  watch  for  ages. 

The  Alhambra  of  course,  from  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  its  history,  is  a  stronghold 
for  popular  fictions  of  the  kind  ;  and  various 
relics,  digged  up  from  time  to  time,  have  con- 
tributed to  strengthen  them.  At  one  time  an 
earthen  vessel  was  found  containing  Moorish 
coins  and  the  skeleton  of  a  cock,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  opinion  of  certain  shrewd  inspectors, 
must  have  been  buried  alive.  At  another  time 
a  vessel  was  dug  up  containing  a  great  scara- 
btzus  or  beetle  of  baked  clay,  covered  with 
Arabic  inscriptions,  which  was  pronounced  a 


local  {Traditions 


215 


prodigious  amulet  of  occult  virtues.  In  this 
way  the  wits  of  the  ragged  brood  who  inhabit 
the  Alhambra  have  been  set  wool-gathering, 
until  there  is  not  a  hall,  nor  tower,  nor  vault, 
of  the  old  fortress,  that  has  not  been  made  the 
scene  of  some  marvellous  tradition.  Having, 
I  trust,  in  the  preceding  papers  made  the  reader 
in  some  degree  familiar  with  the  localities  of 
the  Alhambra,  I  shall  now  launch  out  more 
largely  into  the  wonderful  legends  connected 
with  it,  and  which  I  have  diligently  wrought 
into  shape  and  form,  from  various  legendary 
scraps  and  hints  picked  up  in  the  course  of  my 
perambulations, — in  the  same  manner  that  an 
antiquary  works  out  a  regular  historical  docu- 
ment from  a  few  scattered  letters  of  an  almost 
defaced  inscription. 

If  anything  in  these  legends  should  shock 
the  faith  of  the  over-scrupulous  reader,  he  must 
remember  the  nature  of  the  place  and  make 
due  allowances.  He  must  not  expect  here  the 
same  laws  of  probability  that  govern  common- 
place scenes  and  every-day  life ;  he  must  re- 
member that  he  treads  the  halls  of  an  enchanted 
palace,  and  that  all  is  "haunted  ground." 


Ube  Ifoouse  of  tbe  Weatbercocfe. 

ON  the  brow  of  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Albay- 
cin,  the  highest  part  of  Granada,  and 
which  rises  from  the  narrow  valley  of 
the  Darro,  directly  opposite  to  the  Alhambra, 
stands  all  that  is  left  of  what  was  once  a  royal 
palace  of  the  Moors.  It  has,  in  fact,  fallen  into 
such  obscurity,  that  it  cost  me  much  trouble  to 
find  it,  though  aided  in  my  researches  by  the 
sagacious  and  all-knowing  Mateo  Ximenes. 
This  edifice  has  borne  for  centuries  the  name 
of  ' '  The  House  of  the  Weathercock ' '  (L,a  Casa 
del  Gallo  de  Viento),  from  a  bronze  figure  on 
one  of  its  turrets,  in  ancient  times,  of  a  warrior 
on  horseback,  and  turning  with  every  breeze. 
This  weathercock  was  considered  by  the 
Moslems  of  Granada,  a  portentous  talisman. 
According  to  some  traditions,  it  bore  the  fol- 
lowing Arabic  inscription : 

Calet  el  Bedici  Aben  Habuz, 
Quidet  ebahet  I,indabuz. 


£be  tbouse  of  tbe  TIBleatbercocfc        217 

Which  has  been  rendered  into  Spanish  : 

Dice  el  sabio  Aben  Habuz, 
Que  asi  se  defiende  el  Anduluz. 

And  into  English  : 

In  this  way,  says  Aben  Habuz  the  Wise, 
Andaluz  guards  against  surprise. 

This  Aben  Habuz,  according  to  some  of  the 
Moorish  chronicles,  was  a  captain  in  the  in- 
vading army  of  Taric,  one  of  the  conquerors 
of  Spain,  who  left  him  as  Alcayde  of  Granada. 
He  is  supposed  to  have  intended  this  effigy  as 
a  perpetual  warning  to  the  Moslems  of  Anda- 
luz, that,  surrounded  by  foes,  their  safety  de- 
pended upon  their  being  always  on  their  guard 
and  ready  for  the  field. 

Others,  among  whom  is  the  Christian  his- 
torian Marmol,  affirm  "  Badis  Aben  Habus" 
to  have  been  a  Moorish  Sultan  of  Granada, 
and  that  the  weathercock  was  intended  as  a 
perpetual  admonition  of  the  instability  of 
Moslem  power,  bearing  the  following  words  in 
Arabic : 

"  Thus  Ibn  Habus  al  badise  predicts  Anda- 
lus  shall  one  day  vanish  and  pass  away."  * 

Another  version  of  this  portentous  inscrip- 
tion is  given  by  a  Moslem  historian,  on  the 
*  Marmol,  "  Hist.  Rebellion  of  the  Moors." 


218 


Ube  Blbambra 


authority  of  Sidi  Hasan,  a  faquir  who  flour- 
ished about  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
and  who  was  present  at  the  taking  down  of 
the  weathercock,  when  the  old  Kassaba  was 
undergoing  repairs. 

"  '  I  saw  it, "  says  the  venerable  faquir,  ' { with 
my  own  eyes ;  it  was  of  a  heptagonal  shape, 
and  had  the  following  inscription  in  verse : 

4 '  4  The  palace  at  fair  Granada  presents  a 
talisman.' 

"  '  The  horseman,  though  a  solid  body,  turns 
with  every  wind. ' 

'  4  This  to  a  wise  man  reveals  a  mystery.  In 
a  little  while  comes  a  calamity  to  ruin  both  the 
palace  and  its  owner. '  ' ' 

In  effect  it  was  not  long  after  this  meddling 
with  the  portentous  weathercock  that  the 
following  event  occurred.  As  old  Muley  Abul 
Hassan,  the  king  of  Granada,  was  seated  under 
a  sumptuous  pavilion,  reviewing  his  troops, 
who  paraded  before  him  in  armor  of  polished 
steel  and  gorgeous  silken  robes,  mounted  on 
fleet  steeds,  and  equipped  with  swords,  spears, 
and  shields  embossed  with  gold  and  silver, — 
suddenly  a  tempest  was  seen  hurrying  from 
the  southwest.  In  a  little  while  black  clouds 
overshadowed  the  heavens  and  burst  forth 
with  a  deluge  of  rain.  Torrents  came  roaring 
down  from  the  mountains,  bringing  with  them 


f>ouse  of  tbe  TKHeatbercocfc 


219 


rocks  and  trees  ;  the  Darro  overflowed  its 
banks ;  mills  were  swept  away,  bridges  de- 
stroyed, gardens  laid  waste ;  the  inundation 
rushed  into  the  city,  undermining  houses, 
drowning  their  inhabitants,  and  overflowing 
even  the  square  of  the  Great  Mosque.  The 
people  rushed  in  affright  to  the  mosques  to 
implore  the  mercy  of  Allah,  regarding  this 
uproar  of  the  elements  as  the  harbinger  of 
dreadful  calamities ;  and,  indeed,  according  to 
the  Arabian  historian  Al  Makkari,  it  was  but 
a  type  and  prelude  of  the  direful  war  which 
ended  in  the  downfall  of  the  Moslem  kingdom 
of  Granada 

I  have  thus  given  historic  authorities  suffi- 
cient to  show  the  portentous  mysteries  con- 
nected with  the  House  of  the  Weathercock, 
and  its  talismanic  horseman. 

I  now  proceed  to  relate  still  more  surprising 
things  about  Aben  Habuz  and  his  palace ;  for 
the  truth  of  which,  should  any  doubt  be  enter- 
tained, I  refer  the  dubious  reader  to  Mateo 
Ximenes  and  his  fellow-historiographers  of  the 
Alhambra. 


of  tbe  Brabian  Bstrologer. 


IN  old  times,  many  hundred  years  ago,  there 
was  a  Moorish  king  named  Aben  Habuz, 
who  reigned  over  the  kingdom  of  Granada. 
He  was  a  retired  conqueror  —  that  is  to  say,  one 
who,  having  in  his  more  youthful  days  led  a 
life  of  constant  foray  and  depredation,  now 
that  he  was  grown  feeble  and  superannuated, 
"  languished  for  repose,"  and  desired  nothing 
more  than  to  live  at  peace  with  all  the  world, 
to  husband  his  laurels,  and  to  enjoy  in  quiet 
the  possessions  he  had  wrested  from  his 
neighbors. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  this  most 
reasonable  and  pacific  old  monarch  had  young 
rivals  to  deal  with  ;  princes  full  of  his  early 
passion  for  fame  and  fighting,  and  who  were 
disposed  to  call  him  to  account  for  the  scores 
he  had  run  up  with  their  fathers.  Certain 
distant  districts  of  his  own  territories,  also, 
which  during  the  days  of  his  vigor  he  had 


Tower   and   Hotel  of    the    Siete  Suelos, 
Alhambra. 


stretcher. 


!3Legen£)  of  tbe  Btabian  Bstrologcr      221 


treated  with  a  high  hand,  were  prone,  now 
that  he  languished  for  repose,  to  rise  in  rebel- 
lion and  threaten  to  invest  him  in  his  capital. 
Thus  he  had  foes  on  every  side  ;  a^d  as 
Granada  is  surrounded  by  wild  and  craggy 
mountains,  which  hide  the  approach  of  an 
enemy,  the  unfortunate  Aben  Habuz  was  kept 
in  a  constant  state  of  vigilance  and  alarm,  not 
knowing  in  what  quarter  hostilities  might 
break  out. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  built  watch-towers  on 
the  mountains,  and  stationed  guards  at  every 
pass  with  orders  to  make  fires  by  night  and 
smoke  by  day,  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 
His  alert  foes,  baffling  every  precaution,  would 
break  out  of  some  unthought-of  defile,  ravage 
his  lands  beneath  his  very  nose,  and  then  make 
off  with  prisoners  and  booty  to  the  mountains. 
Was  ever  peaceable  and  retired  conqueror  in  a 
more  uncomfortable  predicament  ? 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  harassed  by  these 
perplexities  and  molestations,  an  ancient  Ara- 
bian physician  arrived  at  his  court.  His  gray 
beard  descended  to  his  girdle,  and  he  had  every 
mark  of  extreme  age,  yet  he  had  travelled 
almost  the  whole  way  from  Egypt  on  foot,  with 
no  other  aid  than  a  staff,  marked  with  hiero- 
glyphics. His  fame  had  preceded  him.  His 
name  was  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub  ;  he  was 


tlbe  Slbambra 

said  to  have  lived  ever  since  the  days  of  Ma- 
homet, and  to  be  the  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  the 
last  of  the  companions  of  the  Prophet.  He  had, 
when  a  child,  followed  the  conquering  army  of 
Amru  into  Egypt,  where  he  had  remained  many 
years  studying  the  dark  sciences,  and  particu- 
larly magic,  among  the  Egyptian  priests. 

It  was,  moreover,  said  that  he  had  found  out 
the  secret  of  prolonging  life,  by  means  of  which 
he  had  arrived  to  the  great  age  of  upwards  of 
two  centuries,  though,  as  he  did  not  discover 
the  secret  until  well  stricken  in  years,  he  could 
only  perpetuate  his  gray  hairs  and  wrinkles. 

This  wonderful  old  man  was  honorably  enter- 
tained by  the  king,  who,  like  most  superan- 
nuated monarchs,  began  to  take  physicians  into 
great  favor.  He  would  have  assigned  him  an 
apartment  in  his  palace,  but  the  astrologer  pre- 
ferred a  cave  in  the  side  of  the  hill  which  rises 
above  the  city  of  Granada,  being  the  same  on 
which  the  Alhambra  has  since  been  built.  He 
caused  the  cave  to  be  enlarged  so  as  to  form  a 
spacious  and  lofty  hall,  with  a  circular  hole  at 
the  top,  through  which,  as  through  a  well,  he 
could  see  the  heavens  and  behold  the  stars  even 
at  mid-day.  The  walls  of  this  hall  were  cov- 
ered with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics  with  cabal- 
istic symbols,  and  with  the  figures  of  the  stars 
in  their  signs.  This  hall  he  furnished  with 


XegenD  of  tbe  Arabian  astrologer      223 

many  implements,  fabricated  under  his  direc- 
tions by  cunning  artificers  of  Granada,  but  the 
occult  properties  of  which  were  known  only  to 
himself. 

In  a  little  while  the  sage  Ibrahim  became  the 
bosom  counsellor  of  the  king,  who  applied  to 
him  for  advice  in  every  emergency.  Aben  Ha- 
buz  was  once  inveighing  against  the  injustice  of 
his  neighbors,  and  bewaihng  the  restless  vigil- 
ance he  had  to  observe  to  guard  himself  against 
their  invasions  ;  when  he  had  finished,  the  as- 
trologer remained  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
replied,  ' '  Know,  O  king,  that  when  I  was  in 
Egypt,  I  beheld  a  great  marvel  devised  by  a 
pagan  priestess  of  old.  On  a  mountain  above  the 
city  of  Borsa,  and  overlooking  the  great  valley 
of  the  Nile,  was  a  figure  of  a  ram,  and  above  it  a 
figure  of  a  cock,  both  of  molten  brass,  and  turn- 
ing upon  a  pivot.  Whenever  the  country  was 
threatened  with  invasion,  the  ram  would  turn 
in  the  direction  of  the  enemy,  and  the  cock 
would  crow  ;  upon  this  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city  knew  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  quarter  from 
which  it  was  approaching,  and  could  take  timely 
means  to  guard  against  it. ' ' 

"  God  is  great  !  "  exclaimed  the  pacific  Aben 
Habuz,  "what  a  treasure  would  be  such  a  ram 
to  keep  an  eye  upon  these  mountains  around 
me  ;  and  then  such  a  cock,  to  crow  in  time  of 


224 


Blbambra 


danger  !  Allah  Akbar  !  how  securely  I  might 
sleep  in  my  palace  with  such  sentinels  on  the 
top!" 

The  astrologer  waited  until  the  ecstasies  of 
the  king  had  subsided,  and  then  proceeded. 

"  After  the  victorious  Amru  (may  he  rest  in 
peace  !)  had  finished  his  conquest  of  Egypt,  I 
remained  among  the  priests  of  the  land,  study- 
ing the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  their  idolatrous 
faith,  and  seeking  to  make  myself  master  of 
the  hidden  knowledge  for  which  they  are  re- 
nowned. I  was  one  day  seated  on  the  banks 
of  the  Nile,  conversing  with  an  ancient  priest, 
when  he  pointed  to  the  mighty  pyramids  which 
rose  like  mountains  out  of  the  neighboring 
desert.  '  All  that  we  can  teach  thee, '  said  he, 
'  is  nothing  to  the  knowledge  locked  up  in  those 
mighty  piles.  In  the  centre  of  the  central  pyr- 
amid is  a  sepulchral  chamber,  in  which  is  en- 
closed the  mummy  of  the  high-priest  who  aided 
in  rearing  that  stupendous  pile  ;  and  with  him 
is  buried  a  wondrous  book  of  knowledge,  con- 
taining all  the  secrets  of  magic  and  art.  This 
book  was  given  to  Adam  after  his  fall,  and  was 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation  to 
King  Solomon  the  Wise,  and  by  its  aid  he  built 
the  Temple  of  Jerusalem.  How  it  came  into 
the  possession  of  the  builder  of  the  pyramids 
is  known  to  Him  alone  who  knows  all  things.' 


XegenD  of  tbe  Srabtan  Betrologer      225 

"  When  I  heard  these  words  of  the  Egyptian 
priest,  my  heart  burned  to  get  possession  of 
that  book.  I  could  command  the  services  of 
many  of  the  soldiers  of  our  conquering  army, 
and  of  a  number  of  the  native  Egyptians.  With 
these  I  set  to  work,  and  pierced  the  solid  mass 
of  the  pyramid,  until,  after  great  toil,  I  came 
upon  one  of  its  interior  and  hidden  passages. 
Following  this  up,  and  threading  a  fearful 
labyrinth,  I  penetrated  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  pyramids,  even  to  the  sepulchral  chamber, 
where  the  mummy  of  the  high-priest  had  lain 
for  ages.  I  broke  through  the  outer  cases  of 
the  mummy,  unfolded  its  many  wrappers  and 
bandages,  and  at  length  found  the  precious 
volume  on  its  bosom.  I  seized  it  with  a  trem- 
bling hand,  and  groped  my  way  out  of  the 
pyramid,  leaving  the  mummy  in  its  dark  and 
silent  sepulchre,  there  to  await  the  final  day  of 
resurrection  and  judgment." 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  Aben 
Habuz,  "  thou  hast  been  a  great  traveller,  and 
seen  marvellous  things ;  but  of  what  avail  to 
me  is  the  secret  of  the  pyramid,  and  the  vol- 
ume of  knowledge  of  the  wise  Solomon  ?  " 

"  This  it  is,  O  king  !  By  the  study  of  that 
book  I  am  instructed  in  all  magic  arts,  and  can 
command  the  assistance  of  genii  to  accomplish 
my  plans.  The  mystery  of  the  Talisman  of 


226 


ttbe  Blbambra 


Borsa  is  therefore  familiar  to  me,  and  such  a 
talisman  can  I  make,  nay,  one  of  greater 
virtues." 

' '  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ay ub, ' '  cried  Aben 
Habuz,  "  better  were  such  a  talisman  than  all 
the  watch-towers  on  the  hills,  and  sentinels 
upon  the  borders.  Give  me  such  a  safeguard, 
and  the  riches  of  my  treasury  are  at  thy 
command. ' ' 

The  astrologer  immediately  set  to  work  to 
gratify  the  wishes  of  the  monarch.  He  caused 
a  great  tower  to  be  erected  upon  the  top  of  the 
royal  palace,  which  stood  on  the  brow  of  the 
hill  of  the  Albaycin.  The  tower  was  built  of 
stones  brought  from  Egypt,  and  taken,  it  is 
said,  from  one  of  the  pyramids.  In  the  upper 
part  of  the  tower  was  a  circular  hall,  with 
windows  looking  towards  every  point  of  the 
compass,  and  before  each  window  was  a  table, 
on  which  was  arranged,  as  on  a  chess-board,  a 
mimic  army  of  horse  and  foot,  with  the  effigy 
of  the  potentate  that  ruled  in  that  direction, 
all  carved  of  wood.  To  each  of  these  tables 
there  was  a  small  lance,  no  bigger  than  a 
bodkin,  on  which  were  engraved  certain  Chal- 
daic  characters.  This  hall  was  kept  constantly 
closed,  by  a  gate  of  brass,  with  a  great  lock  of 
steel,  the  key  of  which  was  in  possession  of  the 
king. 


Xe0en&  of  tbc  Hrabian  Bstrologer      227 

On  the  top  of  the  tower  was  a  bronze  figure 
of  a  Moorish  horseman,  fixed  on  a  pivot,  with 
a  shield  on  one  arm,  and  his  lance  elevated 
perpendicularly.  The  face  of  this  horseman 
was  towards  the  city,  as  if  keeping  guard  over 
it;  but  if  any  foe  were  at  hand,  the  figure 
would  turn  in  that  direction,  and  would  level 
the  lance  as  if  for  action. 

When  this  talisman  was  finished,  Aben 
Habuz  was  all  impatient  to  try  its  virtues,  and 
longed  as  ardently  for  an  invasion  as  he  had 
ever  sighed  after  repose.  His  desire  was  soon 
gratified.  Tidings  were  brought,  early  one 
morning,  by  the  sentinel  appointed  to  watch 
the  tower,  that  the  face  of  the  bronze  horse- 
man was  turned  towards  the  mountains  of 
Elvira,  and  that  his  lance  pointed  directly 
against  the  Pass  of  lyope. 

"  Let  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound  to  arms, 
and  all  Granada  be  put  on  the  alert,"  said 
Aben  Habuz. 

"O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "let  not 
your  city  be  disquieted,  nor  your  warriors 
called  to  arms ;  we  need  no  aid  of  force  to 
deliver  you  from  your  enemies.  Dismiss  your 
attendants,  and  let  us  proceed  alone  to  the 
secret  hall  of  the  tower." 

The  ancient  Aben  Habuz  mounted  the  stair- 
case of  the  tower,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the 


228 


Blbambra 


still  more  ancient  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub. 
They  unlocked  the  brazen  door  and  entered. 
The  window  that  looked  towards  the  Pass  of 
lyope  was  open.  "  In  this  direction,"  said  the 
astrologer,  ' '  lies  the  danger ;  approach,  O 
king,  and  behold  the  mystery  of  the  table." 

King  Aben  Habuz  approached  the  seeming 
chess-board,  on  which  were  arranged  the  small 
wooden  effigies,  when,  to  his  surprise,  he  per- 
ceived that  they  were  all  in  motion.  The 
horses  pranced  and  curveted,  the  warriors 
brandished  their  weapons,  and  there  was  a  faint 
sound  of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  clang 
of  arms,  and  neighing  of  steeds ;  but  all  no 
louder,  nor  more  distinct,  than  the  hum  of  the 
bee,  or  the  summer-fly,  in  the  drowsy  ear  of 
him  who  lies  at  noontide  in  the  shade. 

"Behold,  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "a 
proof  that  thy  enemies  are  even  now  in  the 
field.  They  must  be  advancing  through  yonder 
mountains,  by  the  Pass  of  Lope.  Would  you 
produce  a  panic  and  confusion  amongst  them, 
and  cause  them  to  retreat  without  loss  of  life, 
strike  these  effigies  with  the  but-end  of  this 
magic  lance;  would  you  cause  bloody  feud 
and  carnage,  strike  with  the  point. ' ' 

A  livid  streak  passed  across  the  countenance 
of  Aben  Habuz;  he  seized  the  lance  with 
trembling  eagerness  ;  his  gray  beard  wagged 


Xegenfc  of  tbe  Srabian  astrologer      229 

with  exultation  as  he  tottered  toward  the 
table  :  ' '  Son  of  Abu  Ayub, ' '  exclaimed  he,  in 
chuckling  tone,  ' '  I  think  we  will  have  a  little 
blood!" 

So  saying,  he  thrust  the  magic  lance  into 
some  of  the  pigmy  effigies,  and  belabored 
others  with  the  but-end,  upon  whiqh  the  former 
fell  as  dead  upon  the  board,  and  the  rest,  turn- 
ing upon  each  other,  began,  pell-mell,  a  chance- 
medley  fight. 

It  was  with  difficulty  the  astrologer  could 
stay  the  hand  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs, 
and  prevent  him  from  absolutely  extermina- 
ting his  foes.  At  length  he  prevailed  upon  him 
to  leave  the  tower,  and  to  send  out  scouts  to 
the  mountains  by  the  Pass  of  I^ope. 

They  returned  with  the  intelligence  that  a 
Christian  army  had  advanced  through  the 
heart  of  the  Sierra,  almost  within  sight  of 
Granada,  where  a  dissension  had  broken  out 
among  them  ;  they  had  turned  their  weapons 
against  each  other,  and  after  much  slaughter 
had  retreated  over  the  border. 

Aben  Habuz  was  transported  with  joy  on 
thus  proving  the  efficacy  of  the  talisman.  ' '  At 
length,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  lead  a  life  of  tran- 
quillity, and  have  all  my  enemies  in  my  power. 
O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  what  can  I  bestow 
on  thee  in  reward  for  such  a  blessing  ?  " 


230 


Blbambra 


' '  The  wants  of  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher, 
O  king,  are  few  and  simple  ;  grant  me  but  the 
means  of  fitting  up  my  cave  as  a  suitable  her- 
mitage, and  I  am  content." 

' '  How  noble  is  the  moderation  of  the  truly 
wise!"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  secretly 
pleased  at  the  cheapness  of  the  recompense. 
He  summoned  his  treasurer,  and  bade  him 
dispense  whatever  sums  might  be  required  by 
Ibrahim  to  complete  and  furnish  his  hermitage. 

The  astrologer  now  gave  orders  to  have 
various  chambers  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock, 
so  as  to  form  ranges  of  apartments  connected 
with  his  astrological  hall ;  these  he  caused  to 
be  furnished  with  luxurious  ottomans  and 
divans,  and  the  walls  to  be  hung  with  the 
richest  silks  of  Damascus.  ' '  I  am  an  old  man, ' ' 
said  he,  "  and  can  no  longer  rest  my  bones  on 
stone  couches,  and  these  damp  walls  require 
covering." 

He  had  baths  too  constructed,  and  provided 
with  all  kinds  of  perfumes  and  aromatic  oils. 
"  For  a  bath,"  said  he,  "  is  necessary  to  coun- 
teract the  rigidity  of  age,  and  to  restore  fresh- 
ness and  suppleness  to  the  frame  withered  by 
study." 

He  caused  the  apartments  to  be  hung  with 
innumerable  silver  and  crystal  lamps,  which 
he  filled  with  a  fragrant  oil  prepared  according 


of  tbe  Brabian  astrologer      231 


to  a  receipt  discovered  by  him  in  the  tombs  of 
Egypt.  This  oil  was  perpetual  in  its  nature, 
and  diffused  a  soft  radiance  like  the  tempered 
light  of  day.  '  '  The  light  of  the  sun,  '  '  said  he, 
'  '  is  too  gairish  and  violent  for  the  eyes  of  an 
old  man,  and  the  light  of  the  lamp  is  more 
congenial  to  the  studies  of  a  philosopher.  '  ' 

The  treasurer  of  King  Aben  Habuz  groaned 
at  the  sums  daily  demanded  to  fit  up  this  her- 
mitage, and  he  carried  his  complaints  to  the 
king.  The  royal  word,  however,  had  been 
given  ;  Aben  Habuz  shrugged  his  shoulders  : 
'  '  We  must  have  patience,  '  '  said  he  ;  "  this  old 
man  has  taken  his  idea  of  a  philosophic  retreat 
from  the  interior  of  the  pyramids,  and  of  the 
vast  ruins  of  Egypt  ;  but  all  things  have  an 
end,  and  so  will  the  furnishing  of  his  cavern." 

The  king  was  in  the  right  ;  the  hermitage 
was  at  length  complete,  and  formed  a  sumptu- 
ous subterranean  palace.  The  astrologer  ex- 
pressed himself  perfectly  content,  and,  shutting 
himself  up,  remained  for  three  whole  days 
buried  in  study.  At  the  end  of  that  time  lie 
appeared  again  before  the  treasurer.  '  '  One 
thing  more  is  necessary,  '  '  said  he,  '  '  one  trifling 
solace  for  the  intervals  of  mental  labor.  '  ' 

"O  wise  Ibrahim,  I  am  bound  to  furnish 
everything  necessary  for  thy  solitude  ;  what 
more  dost  thou  require  ?  '  ' 


232 


Blbambra 


"  I  would  fain  have  a  few  dancing- women. " 

' '  Dancing- women  !  ' '  echoed  the  treasurer, 
with  surprise. 

"  Dancing- women,"  replied  the  sage,  grave- 
ly ;"  and  let  them  be  young  and  fair  to  look 
upon ;  for  the  sight  of  youth  and  beauty  is 
refreshing.  A  few  will  suffice,  for  I  am  a  phil- 
osopher of  simple  habits  and  easily  satisfied." 

While  the  philosophic  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu 
Ayub  passed  his  time  thus  sagely  in  his  her- 
mitage, the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  carried  on 
furious  campaigns  in  effigy  in  his  tower.  It 
was  a  glorious  thing  for  an  old  man,  like  him- 
self, of  quiet  habits,  to  have  war  made  easy, 
and  to  be  enabled-  to  amuse  himself  in  his 
chamber  by  brushing  away  whole  armies  like 
so  many  swarms  of  flies. 

Fpr  a  time  he  rioted  in  the  indulgence  of  his 
humors,  and  even  taunted  and  insulted  his 
neighbors,  to  induce  them  to  make  incursions  ; 
but  by  degrees  they  grew  wary  from  repeated 
disasters,  until  no  one  ventured  to  invade  his 
territories.  For  many  months  the  bronze 
horseman  remained  on  the  peace  establishment, 
with  his  lance  elevated  in  the  air ;  and  the 
worthy  old  monarch  began  to  repine  at  the 
want  of  his  accustomed  sport,  and  to  groxv 
peevish  at  his  monotonous  tranquillity. 

At  length,  one  day,  the  talismanic  horseman 


OLegenD  of  tbe  Brabfan  astrologer      233 


veered  suddenly  round,  and  lowering  his  lance, 
made  a  dead  point  towards  the  mountains  of 
Gaudix.  Aben  Habuz  hastened  to  his  tower, 
but  the  magic  table  in  that  direction  remained 
quiet.  Not  a  single  warrior  was  in  motion. 
Perplexed  at  the  circumstance,  he  sent  forth  a 
troop  of  horse  to  scour  the  mountains  and 
reconnoitre.  They  returned  after  three  days' 
absence. 

"  We  have  searched  every  mountain  pass," 
said  they,  ' '  but  not  a  helm  or  a  spear  was  stir- 
ring. All  that  we  have  found  in  the  course  of 
our  foray  was  a  Christian  damsel  of  surpassing 
beauty,  sleeping  at  noontide  beside  a  fountain, 
whom  we  have  brought  away  captive." 

' '  A  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty  ! ' '  ex- 
claimed Aben  Habuz,  his  eyes  gleaming  with 
animation  ;  "let  her  be  conducted  into  my 
presence." 

The  beautiful  damsel  was  accordingly  con- 
ducted into  his  presence.  She  was  arrayed 
with  all  the  luxury  of  ornament  that  had  pre- 
vailed among  the  Gothic  Spaniards  at  the 
time  of  the  Arabian  Conquest.  Pearls  of 
dazzling  whiteness  were  entwined  with  her 
raven  tresses  ;  and  jewels  sparkled  on  her  fore- 
head, rivalling  the  lustre  of  her  eyes.  Around 
her  neck  was  a  golden  chain,  to  which  was  sus- 
pended a  silver  lyre,  which  hung  by  her  side. 


234 


Blbambra 


The  flashes  of  her  dark  refulgent  eye  were 
like  sparks  of  fire  on  the  withered,  yet  com- 
bustible, heart  of  Aben  Habuz  ;  the  swimming 
voluptuousness  of  her  gait  made  his  senses 
reel.  "  Fairest  of  women,"  cried  he,  with 
rapture,  ' '  who  and  what  art  thou  ?  ' ' 

' '  The  daughter  of  one  of  the  Gothic  princes, 
who  but  lately  ruled  over  this  land.  The 
armies  of  my  father  have  been  destroyed,  as  if 
by  magic,  among  these  mountains ;  he  has 
been  driven  into  exile,  and  his  daughter  is  a 
captive. ' ' 

"Beware,  O  king!"  whispered  Ibrahim 
Kbn  Abu  Ayub,  ' '  this  may  be  one  of  those 
northern  sorceresses  of  whom  we  have  heard, 
who  assume  the  most  seductive  forms  to  be- 
guile the  unwary.  Methinks  I  read  witch- 
craft in  her  eye,  and  sorcery  in  every  move- 
ment. Doubtless  this  is  the  enemy  pointed 
out  by  the  talisman." 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  replied  the  king, 
"  thou  art  a  wise  man,  I  grant,  a  conjurer  for 
aught  I  know ;  but  thou  art  little  versed  in 
the  ways  of  woman.  In  that  knowledge  will  I 
yield  to  no  man  ;  no,  not  to  the  wise  Solomon 
himself,  notwithstanding  the  number  of  his 
wives  and  concubines.  As  to  this  damsel,  I 
see  no  harm  in  her  ;  she  is  fair  to  look  upon, 
and  finds  favor  in  my  eyes." 


^ffi 


of  tbe  Brabian  Bstrolo0er.      235 


"  Hearken,  O  king  !  "  replied  the  astrologer. 
"I  have  given  thee  many  victories  by  means 
of  my  talisman,  but  have  never  shared  any  of 
the  spoil.  Give  me  then  this  stray  captive,  to 
solace  me  in  my  solitude  with  her  silver  lyre. 
If  she  be  indeed  a  sorceress,  I  have  counter 
spells  that  set  her  charms  at  defiance. ' ' 

' '  What  !  more  women  !  ' '  cried  Aben  Ha- 
buz.  ' '  Hast  thou  not  already  dancing- women 
enough  to  solace  thee  ?  ' ' 

"  Dancing- women  have  I,  it  is  true,  but  no 
singing-women.  I  would  fain  have  a  little 
minstrelsy  to  refresh  my  mind  when  weary 
with  the  toils  of  study. ' ' 

' '  A  truce  with  thy  hermit  cravings, ' '  said 
the  king,  impatiently.  "This  damsel  have  I 
marked  for  my  own.  I  see  much  comfort  in 
her :  even  such  comfort  as  David,  the  father 
of  Solomon  the  Wise,  found  in  the  society  of 
Abishag  theShunamite." 

Further  solicitations  and  remonstrances  of 
the  astrologer  only  provoked  a  more  peremp- 
tory reply  from  the  monarch,  and  they  parted 
in  high  displeasure.  The  sage  shut  himself 
up  in  his  hermitage  to  brood  over  his  disap- 
pointment ;  ere  he  departed,  however,  he  gave 
the  king  one  more  warning  to  beware  of  his 
dangerous  captive.  But  where  is  the  old  man 
in  love  that  will  listen  to  counsel  ?  Aben 


I 
I 


Cbe  Blbambra 

Habuz  resigned  himself  to  the  full  sway  of  his 
passion.  His  only  study  was  how  to  render 
himself  amiable  in  the  eyes  of  the  Gothic 
beauty.  He  had  not  youth  to  recommend  him, 
it  is  true,  but  then  he  had  riches  ;  and  when  a 
lover  is  old,  he  is  generally  generous.  The 
Zacatin  of  Granada  was  ransacked  for  the  most 
precious  merchandise  of  the  East ;  silks,  jewels, 
precious  gems,  exquisite  perfumes,  all  that 
Asia  and  Africa  yielded  of  rich  and  rare,  were 
lavished  upon  the  princess.  All  kinds  of 
spectacles  and  festivities  were  devised  for  her 
entertainment ;  minstrelsy,  dancing,  tourna- 
ments, bull-fights  ; — Granada  for  a  time  was  a 
scene  of  perpetual  pageant.  The  Gothic  prin- 
cess regarded  all  this  splendor  with  the  air  of 
one  accustomed  to  magnificence.  She  received 
everything  as  a  homage  due  to  her  rank,  or 
rather  to  her  beauty  ;  for  beauty  is  more  lofty  in 
its  exactions  even  than  rank.  Nay,  she  seemed 
to  take  a  secret  pleasure  in  exciting  the  monarch 
to  expenses  that  made  his  treasury  shrink,  and 
then  treating  his  extravagant  generosity  as  a 
mere  matter  of  course.  With  all  his  assiduity 
and  munificence,  also,  the  venerable  lover 
could  not  flatter  himself  that  he  had  made  any 
impression  on  her  heart.  She  never  frowned  on 
him,  it  is  true,  but  then  she  never  smiled. 
Whenever  he  began  to  plead  his  passion,  she 


of  tbe  Srabian  astrologer      237 


struck  her  silver  lyre.  There  was  a  mystic 
charm  in  the  sound.  In  an  instant  the  mon- 
arch began  to  nod  ;  a  drowsiness  stole  over  him, 
and  he  gradually  sank  into  a  sleep,  from  which 
he  awoke  wonderfully  refreshed,  but  perfectly 
cooled,  for  the  time,  of  his  passion.  This  was 
very  baffling  to  his  suit ;  but  then  these  slum- 
bers were  accompanied  by  agreeable  dreams, 
which  completely  enthralled  the  senses  of  the 
drowsy  lover ;  so  he  continued  to  dream  on, 
while  all  Granada  scoffed  at  his  infatuation, 
and  groaned  at  the  treasures  lavished  for  a  song. 

At  length  a  danger  burst  on  the  head  of  Aben 
Habuz,  against  which  his  talisman  yielded  him 
no  \varning.  An  insurrection  broke  out  in  his 
very  capital ;  his  palace  was  surrounded  by  an 
armed  rabble,  who  menaced  his  life  and  the 
life  of  his  Christian  paramour.  A  spark  of  his 
ancient  warlike  spirit  was  awakened  in  the 
breast  of  the  monarch.  At  the  head  of  a  handful 
of  his  guards  he  sallied  forth,  put  the  rebels  to 
flight,  and  crushed  the  insurrection  in  the  bud. 

When  quiet  was  again  restored,  he  sought 
the  astrologer,  who  still  remained  shut  up  in 
his  hermitage,  chewing  the  bitter  cud  of  resent- 
ment. 

Aben  Habuz  approached  him  with  a  concilia- 
tory tone.  "  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said 
he,  ' '  well  didst  thou  predict  dangers  to  me  from 


238  Cbe  Slbambra 

this  captive  beauty ;  tell  me  then,  thou  who 
art  so  quick  at  foreseeing  peril,  what  I  should 
do  to  avert  it. ' ' 

' '  Put  from  thee  the  infidel  damsel  who  is  the 
cause. ' ' 

' '  Sooner  would  I  part  with  my  kingdom, ' ' 
cried  Aben  Habuz. 

"Thou  art  m  danger  of  losing  both, "  replied 
the  astrologer. 

' '  Be  not  harsh  and  angry,  O  most  profound 
of  philosophers ;  consider  the  double  distress 
of  a  monarch  and  a  lover,  and  devise  some 
means  of  protecting  me  from  the  evils  by  which 
I  am  menaced.  I  care  not  for  grandeur,  I  care 
not  for  power,  I  languish  only  for  repose  ;  would 
that  I  had  some  quiet  retreat  where  I  might 
take  refuge  from  the  world,  and  all  its  cares, 
and  pomps,  and  troubles,  and  devote  the  re- 
mainder of  my  days  to  tranquillity  and  love. 

The  astrologer  regarded  him  for  a  moment 
from  under  his  bushy  eyebrows. 

"And  what  wouldst  thou  give,  if  I  could 
provide  thee  such  a  retreat  ?  ' ' 

' '  Thou  shouldst  name  thy  own  reward,  and 
whatever  it  might  be,  if  within  the  scope  of  my 
power,  as  my  soul  liveth,  it  should  be  thine." 

' '  Thou  hast  heard,  O  king,  of  the  garden 
of  Irem,  one  of  the  prodigies  of  Arabia  the 
happy." 


Xegenfc  of  tbe  Srabian  Bstroto0er       239 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  garden  ;  it  is  recorded 
in  the  Koran,  even  in  the  chapter  entitled  '  The 
Dawn  of  Day.'  I  have,  moreover,  heard  mar- 
vellous things  related  of  it  by  pilgrims  who 
had  been  to  Mecca ;  but  I  considered  them 
wild  fables,  such  as  travellers  are  wont  to  tell 
who  have  visited  remote  countries." 

' '  Discredit  not,  O  king,  the  tales  of  travel- 
lers," rejoined  the  astrologer,  gravely,  "for 
they  contain  precious  rarities  of  knowledge 
brought  from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  As  to  the 
palace  and  garden  of  Irem,  what  is  generally 
told  of  them  is  true.  I  have  seen  them  with 
mine  own  eyes  ; — listen  to  my  adventure,  for  it 
has  a  bearing  upon  the  object  of  your  request. 

"  In  my  younger  days,  when  a  mere  Arab  of 
the  desert,  I  tended  my  father's  camels.  In 
traversing  the  desert  of  Aden,  one  of  them 
strayed  from  the  rest,  and  was  lost.  I  searched 
after  it  for  several  days,  but  in  vain,  until, 
wearied  and  faint,  I  laid  myself  down  at  noon- 
tide, and  slept  under  a  palm-tree  by  the  side  of 
a  scanty  well.  When  I  awoke  I  found  myself 
at  the  gate  of  a  city.  I  entered,  and  beheld 
noble  streets,  and  squares,  and  market-places  ; 
but  all  were  silent  and  without  an  inhabitant. 
I  wandered  on  until  I  came  to  a  sumptuous  pal- 
ace, with  a  garden  adorned  with  fountains  and 
fish-ponds,  and  groves  and  flowers,  and  or- 


Gbe  Bibambra 


chards  laden  with  delicious  fruit ;  but  still  no 
one  was  to  be  seen.  Upon  which,  appalled  at 
this  loneliness,  I  hastened  to  depart ;  and,  af- 
ter issuing  forth  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  I  turned 
to  look  upon  the  place,  but  it  was  no  longer  to 
be  seen  :  nothing  but  the  silent  desert  extended 
before  my  eyes. 

"In  the  neighborhood  I  met  with  an  aged 
dervise,  learned  in  the  traditions  and  secrets  of 
the  land,  and  related  to  him  what  had  befallen 
me.  '  This,'  said  he,  '  is  the  far-famed  garden 
of  Irem,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  desert.  It 
only  appears  at  times  to  some  wanderer  like 
thyself,  gladdening  him  with  the  sight  of  towers 
and  palaces  and  garden  walls  overhung  with 
richly  laden  fruit-trees,  and  then  vanishes, 
leaving  nothing  but  a  lonely  desert.  And  this 
is  the  story  of  it.  In  old  times,  when  this 
country  was  inhabited  by  the  Addites,  King 
Sheddad,  the  son  of  Ad,  the  great  grandson  of 
Noah,  founded  here  a  splendid  city.  When  it 
was  finished,  and  he  saw  its  grandeur,  his  heart 
was  puffed  up  with  pride  and  arrogance,  and  he 
determined  to  build  a  royal  palace,  with  gar- 
dens which  should  rival  all  related  in  the 
Koran  of  the  celestial  paradise.  But  the  curse  of 
heaven  fell  upon  him  for  his  presumption.  He 
and  his  subjects  were  swept  from  the  earth,  and 
his  splendid  city,  and  palace,  and  gardens,  were 


of  tbe  Srabfan  astrologer      241 


laid  under  a  perpetual  spell,  which  hides  them 
from  human  sight,  excepting  that  they  are  seen 
at  intervals,  by  way  of  keeping  his  sin  in  per- 
petual remembrance.' 

' '  This  story,  O  king,  and  the  wonders  I 
had  seen,  ever  dwelt  in  my  mind  ;  and  in  after- 
years,  when  I  had  been  in  Egypt,  and  was 
possessed  of  the  book  of  knowledge  of  Solo- 
mon the  Wise,  I  determined  to  return  and 
revisit  the  garden  of  Irem.  I  did  so,  and 
found  it  revealed  to  my  instructed  sight.  I 
took  possession  of  the  palace  of  Sheddad,  and 
passed  several  days  in  his  mock  paradise. 
The  genii  who  watch  over  the  place  were 
obedient  to  my  magic  power,  and  revealed  to 
me  the  spells  by  which  the  whole  garden  had 
been,  as  it  were,  conjured  into  existence,  and 
by  which  it  was  rendered  invisible.  Such  a 
palace  and  garden,  O  king,  can  I  make  for 
thee,  even  here,  on  the  mountain  above  thy 
city.  Do  I  not  know  all  the  secret  spells  ? 
and  am  I  not  in  possession  of  the  book  of 
knowledge  of  Solomon  the  Wise  ?  ' ' 

' '  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub  ! ' '  exclaimed 
Aben  Habuz,  trembling  with  eagerness,  "thou 
art  a  traveller  indeed,  and  hast  seen  and 
learned  marvellous  things  !  Contrive  me  such 
a  paradise,  and  ask  any  reward,  even  to  the 
half  of  my  kingdom. ' ' 


242 


Blbambra 


"Alas  !  "  replied  the  other,  "  thou  knowest 
I  am  an  old  man,  and  a  philosopher,  and  easily 
satisfied  ;  all  the  reward  I  ask  is  the  first  beast 
of  burden,  with  its  load,  which  shall  enter  the 
magic  portal  of  the  palace. ' ' 

The  monarch  gladly  agreed  to  so  moderate  a 
stipulation,  and  the  astrologer  began  his  work. 
On  the  summit  of  the  hill,  immediately  above 
his  subterranean  hermitage,  he  caused  a  great 
gateway  or  barbican  to  be  erected,  opening 
through  the  centre  of  a  strong  tower. 

There  was  an  outer  vestibule  or  porch,  with 
a  lofty  arch,  and  within  it  a  portal  secured 
by  massive  gates.  On  the  keystone  of  the 
portal  the  astrologer,  with  his  own  hand, 
wrought  the  figure  of  a  huge  key  ;  and  on  the 
keystone  of  the  outer  arch  of  the  vestibule, 
which  was  loftier  than  that  of  the  portal,  he 
carved  a  gigantic  hand.  These  were  potent 
talismans,  over  which  he  repeated  many  sen- 
tences in  an  unknown  tongue. 

When  this  gateway  was  finished,  he  shut 
himself  up  for  two  days  in  his  astrological  hall, 
engaged  in  secret  incantations ;  on  the  third 
he  ascended  the  hill,  and  passed  the  whole 
day  on  its  summit.  At  a  late  hour  of  the 
night  he  came  down,  and  presented  himself 
before  Aben  Habuz.  "At  length,  O  king," 
said  he,  ' '  my  labor  is  accomplished.  On  the 


legeno  of  tbe  Arabian  astrologer      243 

summit  of  the  hill  stands  one  of  the  most 
delectable  palaces  that  ever  the  head  of  man 
devised,  or  the  heart  of  man  desired.  It  co&- 
tains  sumptuous  halls  and  galleries,  delicious 
gardens,  cool  fountains,  and  fragrant  baths ; 
in  a  word,  the  whole  mountain  is  converted 
into  a  paradise.  L,ike  the  garden  of  Irem,  it  is 
protected  by  a  mighty  charm,  which  hides  it 
from  the  view  and  search  of  mortals,  excepting 
such  as  possess  the  secret  of  its  talismans. ' ' 

"Enough!"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  joyfully, 
"to-morrow  morning  with  the  first  light  we 
will  ascend  and  take  possession. ' '  The  happy 
monarch  slept  but  little  that  night.  Scarcely 
had  the  rays  of  the  sun  begun  to  play  about 
the  snowy  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  when 
he  mounted  his  steed,  and,  accompanied  only 
by  a  few  chosen  attendants,  ascended  a  steep 
and  narrow  road  leading  up  the  hill.  Beside 
him,  on  a  white  palfrey,  rode  the  Gothic 
princess,  her  whole  dress  sparkling  with  jew- 
els, while  round  her  neck  was  suspended  her 
silver  lyre.  The  astrologer  walked  on  the 
other  side  of  the  king,  assisting  his  steps  with 
his  hieroglyphic  staff,  for  he  never  mounted 
steed  of  any  kind. 

Aben  Habuz  looked  to  see  the  towers  of  the 
palace  brightening  above  him,  and  the  embow- 
ered terraces  of  its  gardens  stretching  along 


244 


tlbe  Slbambra 


the  heights ;  but  as  yet  nothing  of  the  kind 
was  to  be  descried.  ' '  That  is  the  mystery 
and  safeguard  of  the  place, ' '  said  the  astrolo- 
ger ;  ' '  nothing  can  be  discerned  until  you  have 
passed  the  spell-bound  gateway,  and  been  put 
in  possession  of  the  place. ' ' 

As  they  approached  the  gateway,  the  astrolo- 
ger paused,  and  pointed  out  to  the  king  the 
mystic  hand  and  key  carved  upon  the  portal 
of  the  arch.  "These,"  said  he,  "are  the 
talismans  which  guard  the  entrance  to  this 
paradise.  Until  yonder  hand  shall  reach  down 
and  seize  that  key,  neither  mortal  power  nor 
magic  artifice  can  prevail  against  the  lord  of 
this  mountain." 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  gazing,  with  open 
mouth  and  silent  wonder,  at  these  mystic  talis- 
mans, the  palfrey  of  the  princess  proceeded, 
and  bore  her  in  at  the  portal,  to  the  very 
centre  of  the  barbican. 

' '  Behold, ' '  cried  the  astrologer,  ' '  my  prom- 
ised reward  ;  the  first  animal  with  its  burden 
which  should  enter  the  magic  gateway. ' ' 

Aben  Habuz  smiled  at  what  he  considered 
a  pleasantry  of  the  ancient  man  ;  but  when  he 
found  him  to  be  in  earnest,  his  gray  beard 
trembled  with  indignation. 

"Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  sternly, 
"what  equivocation  is  this?  Thou  knowest 


Xegeno  of  tbe  Srabian  astrologer       245 


the  meaning  of  my  promise  :  the  first  beast  of 
burden,  with  its  load,  that  should  enter  this 
portal.  Take  the  strongest  mule  in  my  stables, 
load  it  with  the  most  precious  things  of  my 
treasury,  and  it  is  thine ;  but  dare  not  raise  thy 
thoughts  to  her  who  is  the  delight  of  my  heart." 

' '  What  need  I  of  wealth  ?  ' '  cried  the  astrolo- 
ger, scornfully  ;  ' '  have  I  not  the  book  of 
knowledge  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  and  through 
it  the  command  of  the  secret  treasures  of  the 
earth  ?  The  princess  is  mine  by  right ;  thy 
royal  word  is  pledged  ;  I  claim  her  as  my  own. ' ' 

The  princess  looked  down  haughtily  from 
her  palfrey,  and  a  light  smile  of  scorn  curled 
her  rosy  lip  at  this  dispute  between  two  gray- 
beards  for  the  possession  of  youth  and  beauty. 
The  wrath  of  the  monarch  got  the  better  of 
his  discretion.  ' '  Base  son  of  the  desert, ' '  cried 
he,  ' '  thou  mayst  be  master  of  many  arts,  but 
know  me  for  thy  master,  and  presume  not  to 
juggle  with  thy  king." 

' '  My  master  !  my  king  ! ' '  echoed  the  as- 
trologer,— "  the  monarch  of  a  mole-hill  to 
claim  sway  over  him  who  possesses  the  talis- 
mans of  Solomon  !  Farewell,  Aben  Habuz  ; 
reign  over  thy  petty  kingdom,  and  revel  in 
thy  paradise  of  fools  ;  for  me,  I  will  laugh  at 
thee  in  my  philosophic  retirement. ' ' 

So  saying,  he  seized  the  bridle  of  the  palfrey, 


246 


Blbambra 


smote  the  earth  with  his  staff,  and  sank  with 
the  Gothic  princess  through  the  centre  of  the 
barbican.  The  earth  closed  over  them,  and 
no  trace  remained  of  the  opening  by  which 
they  had  descended. 

Aben  Habuz  was  struck  dumb  for  a  time 
with  astonishment.  Recovering  himself,  he 
ordered  a  thousand  workmen  to  dig,  with 
pickaxe  and  spade,  into  the  ground  where  the 
astrologer  had  disappeared.  They  digged  and 
digged,  but  in  vain  ;  the  flinty  bosom  of  the 
hill  resisted  their  implements  ;  or  if  they  did 
penetrate  a  little  way,  the  earth  filled  in  again 
as  fast  as  they  threw  it  out.  Aben  Habuz 
sought  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  leading  to  the  subterranean  palace 
of  the  astrologer ;  but  it  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  Where  once  had  been  an  entrance, 
was  now  a  solid  surface  of  primeval  rock. 
With  the  disappearance  of  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu 
Ayub  ceased  the  benefit  of  his  talismans.  The 
bronze  horseman  remained  fixed,  with  his  face 
turned  toward  the  hill,  and  his  spear  pointed 
to  the  spot  where  the  astrologer  had  descended, 
as  if  there  still  lurked  the  deadliest  foe  of 
Aben  Habuz. 

From  time  to  time  the  sound  of  music,  and 
the  tones  of  a  female  voice,  could  be  faintly 
heard  from  the  bosom  of  the  hill  ;  and  a 


Xegeno  of  tbe  Brabfan  astrologer      247 


peasant  one  day  brought  word  to  the  king, 
that  in  the  preceding  night  he  had  found  a 
fissure  in  the  rock,  by  which  he  had  crept  in, 
until  he  looked  down  into  a  subterranean  hall, 
in  which  sat  the  astrologer,  on  a  magnificent 
divan,  slumbering  and  nodding  to  the  silver 
lyre  of  the  princess,  which  seemed  to  hold  a 
magic  sway  over  his  senses. 

Aben  Habuz  sought  the  fissure  in  the  rock, 
but  it  was  again  closed.  He  renewed  the 
attempt  to  unearth  his  rival,  but  all  in  vain. 
The  spell  of  the  hand  and  key  was  too  potent 
to  be  counteracted  by  human  power.  As  to 
the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  site  of  the 
promised  palace  and  garden,  it  remained  a  naked 
waste  ;  either  the  boasted  elysium  was  hidden 
from  sight  by  enchantment,  or  was  a  mere 
fable  of  the  astrologer.  The  world  charitably 
supposed  the  latter,  and  some  used  to  call  the 
place  "  The  King's  Folly  "  ;  while  others 
named  it  "  The  Fool's  Paradise." 

To  add  to  the  chagrin  of  Aben  Habuz,  the 
neighbors  whom  he  had  defied  and  taunted, 
and  cut  up  at  his  leisure  while  master  of  the 
talismanic  horseman,  finding  him  no  longer 
protected  by  magic  spell,  made  inroads  into 
his  territories  from  all  sides,  and  the  remainder 
of  the  life  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs  was 
a  tissue  of  turmoils. 


248 


Blbambra 


At  length  Aben  Habuz  died,  and  was  buried. 
Ages  have  since  rolled  away.  The  Alhambra 
has  been  built  on  the  eventful  mountain,  and 
in  some  measure  realizes  the  fabled  delights 
of  the  garden  of  Irem.  The  spellbound  gate- 
way still  exists  entire,  protected  no  doubt  by 
the  mystic  hand  and  key,  and  now  forms  the 
Gate  of  Justice,  the  grand  entrance  to  the 
fortress.  Under  that  gateway,  it  is  said,  the 
old  astrologer  remains  in  his  subterranean 
hall,  nodding  on  his  divan,  lulled  by  the  silver 
lyre  of  the  princess. 

The  old  invalid  sentinels  who  mount  guard 
at  the  gate  hear  the  strains  occasionally  in  the 
summer  nights  ;  and,  yielding  to  their  soporific 
power,  doze  quietly  at  their  posts.  Nay,  so 
drowsy  an  influence  pervades  the  place,  that 
even  those  who  watch  by  day  may  generally 
be  seen  nodding  on  the  stone  benches  of  the 
barbican,  or  sleeping  under  the  neighboring 
trees  ;  so  that  in  fact  it  is  the  drowsiest  military 
post  in  all  Christendom.  All  this,  say  the 
ancient  legends,  will  endure  from  age  to  age. 
The  princess  will  remain  captive  to  the  astrolo- 
ger ;  and  the  astrologer,  bound  up  in  magic 
slumber  by  the  princess,  until  the  last  day, 
unless  the  mystic  hand  shall  grasp  the  fated 
key,  and  dispel  the  whole  charm  of  this  en- 
chanted mountain. 


Xegeno  of  tbe  Hrabtan  astrologer      249 

NOTE  TO  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER. 

Al  Makkari,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Mohammedan 
Dynasties  in  Spain,  "cites  from  another  Arabian  writer 
an  account  of  a  talismanic  effigy  somewhat  similar  to 
the  one  in  the  foregoing  legend. 

In  Cadiz,  says  he,  there  formerly  stood  a  square 
tower  upwards  of  one  hundred  cubits  high,  built  of 
huge  blocks  of  stone,  fastened  together  with  clamps 
of  brass.  On  the  top  was  the  figure  of  a  man,  holding 
a  staff  in  his  right  hand,  his  face  turned  to  the  At- 
lantic, and  pointing  with  the  forefinger  of  his  left 
hand  to  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  It  was  said  to  have 
been  set  up  in  ancient  times  by  the  Gothic  kings  of 
Andalus,  as  a  beacon  or  guide  to  navigators.  The 
Moslems  of  Barbary  and  Andalus  considered  it  a  talis- 
man which  exercised  a  spell  over  the  seas.  Under  its 
guidance,  swarms  of  piratical  people  of  a  nation 
called  Majus,  appeared  on  the  coast  in  large  vessels 
with  a  square  sail  in  the  bow,  and  another  in  the 
stern.  They  came  every  six  or  seven  years  ;  captured 
every  thing  they  met  with  on  the  sea  ; — guided  by 
the  statue,  they  passed  through  the  Straits  into  the 
Mediterranean,  landed  on  the  coasts  of  Andalus,  laid 
everything  waste  with  fire  and  sword ;  and  sometimes 
carried  their  depredations  on  the  opposite  coasts  even 
as  far  as  Syria. 

At  length  it  came  to  pass  in  the  time  of  the  civil 
wars,  a  Moslem  admiral  who  had  taken  possession  of 
Cadiz,  hearing  that  the  statue  on  top  of  the  tower  was 
of  pure  gold,  had  it  lowered  to  the  ground  and  broken 
to  pieces,  when  it  proved  to  be  of  gilded  brass.  With 
the  destruction  of  the  idol,  the  spell  over  the  sea  was 
at  an  end.  From  that  time  forward  nothing  more 


was  seen  of  the  piratical  people  of  the  ocean,  except- 
ing that  two  of  their  barks  were  wrecked  on  the 
coast,  one  at  Marsu-1-Majus  (the  port  of  the  Majus), 
the  other  close  to  the  promontory  of  Al-Aghan. 

The   maritime    invaders   above   mentioned  by    Al 
Makkari  must  have  been  the  Northmen. 


Disftors  to  tbe  Blbambra. 

FOR  nearly  three  months  had  I  enjoyed 
undisturbed  my  dream  of  sovereignty  in 
the  Alhambra, — a  longer  term  of  quiet 
than  had  been  the  lot  of  many  of  my  predeces- 
sors. During  this  lapse  of  time  the  progress 
of  the  season  had  wrought  the  usual  change. 
On  my  arrival  I  had  found  everything  in 
the  freshness  of  May  ;  the  foliage  of  the  trees 
was  still  tender  and  transparent ;  the  pome- 
granate had  not  yet  shed  its  brilliant  crimson 
blossoms  ;  the  orchards  of  the  Xenil  and  the 
Darro  were  in  full  bloom  ;  the  rocks  were  hung 
with  wild  flowers,  and  Granada  seemed  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  a  wilderness  of  roses  ; 
among  which  innumerable  nightingales  sang, 
not  merely  in  the  night,  but  all  day  long. 

Now  the  advance  of  summer  had  withered 
the  rose  and  silenced  the  nightingale,  and  the 
distant  country  began  to  look  parched  and  sun- 
burnt, though  a  perennial  verdure  reigned  im- 


252 


Blbambra 


mediately  round  the  city  and  in  the  deep  narrow 
valleys  at  the  foot  of  the  snow-capped  moun- 
tains. 

The  Alhambra  possesses  retreats  graduated 
to  the  heat  of  the  weather,  among  which  the 
most  peculiar  is  the  almost  subterranean  apart- 
ment of  the  baths.  This  still  retains  its 
ancient  Oriental  character,  though  stamped 
with  the  touching  traces  of  decline.  At  the 
entrance,  opening  into  a  small  court  formerly 
adorned  with  flowers,  is  a  hall,  moderate  in 
size,  but  light  and  graceful  in  architecture.  It 
is  overlooked  by  a  small  gallery  supported  by 
marble  pillars  and  Morisco  arches.  An  ala- 
baster fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  pavement 
still  throws  up  a  jet  of  water  to  cool  the  place. 
On  each  side  are  deep  alcoves  with  raised  plat- 
forms, where  the  bathers,  after  their  ablutions, 
reclined  on  cushions,  soothed  to  voluptuous 
repose  by  the  fragrance  of  the  perfumed  air 
and  the  notes  of  soft  music  from  the  gallery. 
Beyond  this  hall  are  the  interior  chambers, 
still  more  retired  ;  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of 
female  privacy  ;  for  here  the  beauties  of  the 
Harem  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  the  baths. 
A  soft  mysterious  light  reigns  through  the 
place,  admitted  through  small  apertures  (lum- 
breras)  in  the  vaulted  ceiling.  The  traces  of 
ancient  elegance  are  still  to  be  seen,  and  the 


Visitors  to  tbe  Slbambra  253 

alabaster  baths  in  which  the  sultans  once 
reclined.  The  prevailing  obscurity  and  si- 
lence have  made  these  vaults  a  favorite  resort 
of  bats,  who  nestle  during  the  day  in  the  dark 
nooks  and  corners,  and  on  being  disturbed,  flit 
mysteriously  about  the  twilight  chambers, 
heightening,  in  an  indescribable  degree,  their 
air  of  desertion  and  decay. 

In  this  cool  and  elegant,  though  dilapidated 
retreat,  which  had  the  freshness  and  seclusion 
of  a  grotto,  I  passed  the  sultry  hours  of  the 
day  as  summer  advanced,  emerging  towards 
sunset ;  and  bathing,  or  rather  swimming,  at 
night  in  the  great  reservoir  of  the  main  court. 
In  this  way  I  was  enabled  in  a  measure  to 
counteract  the  relaxing  and  enervating  influ- 
ence of  the  climate. 

My  dream  of  absolute  sovereignty,  how- 
ever, came  at  length  to  an  end.  I  was  roused 
one  morning  by  the  report  of  fire-arms,  which 
reverberated  among  the  towers  as  if  the  castle 
had  been  taken  by  surprise.  On  sallying  forth, 
I  found  an  old  cavalier  with  a  number  of  do- 
mestics in  possession  of  the  Hall  of  the  Am- 
bassadors. He  was  an  ancient  count  who  had 
come  up  from  his  palace  in  Granada  to  pass  a 
short  time  in  the  Alhambra  for  the  benefit  of 
purer  air  ;  and  who,  being  a  veteran  and  in- 
veterate sportsman,  was  endeavoring  to  get  an 


254 


aibambra 


appetite  for  his  breakfast  by  shooting  at  swal- 
lows from  the  balconies.  It  was  a  harmless 
amusement ;  for  though,  by  the  alertness  of 
his  attendants  in  loading  his  pieces,  he  was 
enabled  to  keep  up  a  brisk  fire,  I  could  not 
accuse  him  of  the  death  of  a  single  swallow. 
Nay,  the  birds  themselves  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  sport,  and  to  deride  his  want  of  skill,  skim- 
ming in  circles  close  to  the  balconies,  and 
twittering  as  they  darted  by. 

The  arrival  of  this  old  gentleman  changed 
essentially  the  aspect  of  affairs,  but  caused  no 
jealousy  nor  collision.  We  tacitly  shared  the 
empire  between  us,  like  the  last  kings  of 
Granada,  excepting  that  we  maintained  a 
most  amicable  alliance.  He  reigned  absolute 
over  the  Court  of  the  Lions  and  its  adjacent 
halls,  while  I  maintained  peaceful  possession 
of  the  regions  of  the  bath  and  the  little  garden 
of  lyindaraxa.  We  took  our  meals  together 
under  the  arcades  of  the  court,  where  the 
fountains  cooled  the  air,  and  bubbling  rills 
ran  along  the  channels  of  the  marble  pave- 
ment. 

In  the  evenings  a  domestic  circle  would 
gather  about  the  worthy  old  cavalier.  The 
countess,  his  wife  by  a  second  marriage,  would 
come  up  from  the  city  accompanied  by  her 
step-daughter  Carmen,  an  only  child,  a  charm- 


Visitors  to  tbe  aibambra 


255 


ing  little  being,  still  in  her  girlish  years.  Then 
there  were  always  some  of  his  official  depend- 
ants, his  chaplain,  his  lawyer,  his  secretary,  his 
steward,  and  other  officers  and  agents  of  his 
extensive  possessions,  who  brought  him  up  the 
news  or  gossip  of  the  city,  and  formed  his 
evening  party  of  tresillo  or  ombre.  Thus  he 
held  a  kind  of  domestic  court,  where  each  one 
paid  him  deference,  and  sought  to  contribute 
to  his  amusement,  without,  however,  any  ap- 
pearance of  servility,  or  any  sacrifice  of  self- 
respect.  In  fact,  nothing  of  the  kind  was 
exacted  by  the  demeanor  of  the  count ;  for 
whatever  may  be  said  of  Spanish  pride,  it 
rarely  chills  or  constrains  the  intercourse  of 
social  or  domestic  life.  Among  no  people 
are  the  relations  between  kindred  more  unre- 
served and  cordial,  or  between  superior  and 
dependant  more  free  from  haughtiness  on  the 
one  side,  and  obsequiousness  on  the  other.  In 
these  respects  there  still  remains  in  Spanish 
life,  especially  in  the  provinces,  much  of  the 
vaunted  simplicity  of  the  olden  time. 

The  most  interesting  member  of  this  family 
group,  in  my  eyes,  was  the  daughter  of  the 
count,  the  lovely  little  Carmen.  She  was  but 
about  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  appeared  to  be 
considered  a  mere  child,  though  the  idol  of  the 
family,  going  generally  by  the  childlike  but 


[ggj^^p*  (^&Tj  ^^^^j^^fc-  •  /£\  •    "^^^yV"***^  C7"^\     ^f^P^I 


256 


SIbambra 


endearing  appellation  of  La  Nina.  Her  form 
had  not  yet  attained  full  maturity  and  develop- 
ment, but  possessed  already  the  exquisite 
symmetry  and  pliant  grace  so  prevalent  in  this 
country.  Her  blue  eyes,  fair  complexion,  and 
light  hair  were  unusual  in  Andalusia,  and 
gave  a  mildness  and  gentleness  to  her  de- 
meanor in  contrast  to  the  usual  fire  of  Spanish 
beauty,  but  in  unison  with  the  guileless  and 
confiding  innocence  of  her  manners.  She  had 
at  the  same  time  the  innate  aptness  and  versa- 
tility of  her  fascinating  countrywomen.  What- 
ever she  undertook  to  do  she  did  well  and 
apparently  without  effort.  She  sang,  played 
the  guitar  and  other  instruments,  and  danced 
the  picturesque  dances  of  her  country  to  ad- 
miration, but  never  seemed  to  seek  admiration. 
Everything  was  spontaneous,  prompted  by  her 
own  gay  spirits  and  happy  temper. 

The  presence  of  this  fascinating  little  being 
spread  a  new  charm  about  the  Alhambra,  and 
seemed  to  be  in  unison  with  the  place.  While 
the  count  and  countess,  with  the  chaplain  or 
secretary,  were  playing  their  game  of  tresillo 
under  the  vestibule  of  the  Court  of  L,ions,  she, 
attended  by  Dolores,  who  acted  as  her  maid 
of  honor,  would  sit  by  one  of  the  fountains, 
and,  accompanying  herself  on  the  guitar,  would 
sing  some  of  those  popular  romances  which 


Visitors  to  tbe  Hlbambra 


abound  in  Spain,  or,  what  was  still  more  to 
my  taste,  some  traditional  ballad  about  the 
Moors. 

Never  shall  I  think  of  the  Alhambra  with- 
out remembering  this  lovely  little  being, 
sporting  in  happy  and  innocent  girlhood  in  its 
marble  halls,  dancing  to  the  sound  of  the 
Moorish  castanets,  or  mingling  the  silver 
warbling  of  her  voice  with  the  music  of  its 
fountains. 


IRelics  ant)  (Benealogfes. 

IF  I  had  been  pleased  and  interested  by  the 
count  and  his  family,  as  furnishing  a  pic- 
ture of  a  Spanish  domestic  life,  I  was  still 
more  so  when  apprised  of  historical  circum- 
stances which  linked  them  with  the  heroic 
times  of  Granada.  In  fact,  in  this  worthy  old 
cavalier,  so  totally  unwarlike,  or  whose  deeds 
in  arms  extended,  at  most,  to  a  war  on  swal- 
lows and  martlets,  I  discovered  a  lineal  de- 
scendant and  actual  representative  of  Gonsalvo 
of  Cordova,  ' '  The  Grand  Captain, ' '  who  won 
some  of  his  brightest  laurels  before  the  walls 
of  Granada,  and  was  one  of  the  cavaliers  com- 
missioned by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  nego- 
tiate the  terms  of  surrender ;  nay,  more,  the 
count  was  entitled,  did  he  choose  it,  to  claim 
remote  affinity  with  some  of  the  ancient  Moor- 
ish princes,  through  a  scion  of  his  house,  Don 
Pedro  Venegas,  surnamed  the  Tornadizo  ;  and 
by  the  same  token  his  daughter,  the  fascinat- 


IRelicg  anD  (Senealogtes 


259 


ing  little  Carmen,  might  claim  to  be  rightful 
representative  of  the  Princess  Cetimerien  or 
the  beautiful  L,indaraxa.* 

Understanding  from  the  count  that  he  had 
some  curious  relics  of  the  Conquest,  preserved 
in  his  family  archives,  I  accompanied  him 
early  one  morning  down  to  his  palace  in  Gra- 
nada to  examine  them.  The  most  important 
of  these  relics  was  the  sword  of  the  Grand 
Captain  ;  a  weapon  destitute  of  all  ostentatious 
ornament,  as  the  weapons  of  great  generals  are 
apt  to  be,  with  a  plain  hilt  of  ivory  and  a 

*  I/est  this  should  be  deemed  a  mere  stretch  of 
fancy,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  following  geneal- 
ogy, derived  by  the  historian  Alcantara,  from  an 
Arabian  manuscript,  on  parchment  in  the  archives 
of  the  Marquis  of  Corvera.  It  is  a  specimen  of  the 
curious  affinities  between  Christians  and  Moslems, 
produced  by  capture  and  intermarriages,  during  the 
Moorish  wars.  From  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish  king, 
the  conqueror  of  the  Almohades,  was  descended  in 
right  line  Cid  Yahia  Abraham  Alnagar,  Prince  of 
Almeria,  who  married  a  daughter  of  King  Bermejo. 
They  had  three  children,  commonly  called  the  Celti- 
merian  princes,  ist.  Jusef  ben  Alhamar,  who  for  a 
time  usurped  the  throne  of  Granada.  2d.  The  Prince 
Nasar,  who  married  the  celebrated  Lindaraxa.  3d. 
The  Princess  Cetimerien,  who  married  Don  Pedro 
Venegas,  captured  by  the  Moors  in  his  boyhood,  a 
younger  son  of  the  House  of  Luque,  of  which  house 
the  old  count  was  the  present  head. 


Blbambra 


broad  thin  blade.  It  might  furnish  a  comment 
on  hereditary  honors,  to  see  the  sword  of  the 
Grand  Captain  legitimately  declined  into  such 
feeble  hands. 

The  other  relics  of  the  Conquest  were  a 
number  of  espingardas  or  muskets  of  unwieldy 
size  and  ponderous  weight,  worthy  to  rank 
with  those  enormous  two-edged  swords  pre- 
served in  old  armories,  which  look  like  relics 
from  the  days  of  the  giants. 

Besides  other  hereditary  honors,  I  found  the 
old  count  was  Alferez  mayor,  or  grand  stand- 
ard-bearer, in  which  capacity  he  was  entitled 
to  bear  the  ancient  standard  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  on  certain  high  and  solemn  occasions, 
and  to  wave  it  over  their  tombs.  I  was  shown 
also  the  caparisons  of  velvet,  sumptuously  em- 
broidered with  gold  and  silver,  for  six  horses, 
with  which  he  appeared  in  state  when  a  new 
sovereign  was  to  be  proclaimed  in  Granada 
and  Seville  ;  the  count  mounting  one  of  the 
horses,  and  the  other  five  being  led  by  lackeys 
in  rich  liveries. 

I  had  hoped  to  find  among  the  relics  and 
antiquities  of  the  count's  palace  some  speci- 
mens of  the  armor  and  weapons  of  the  Moors 
of  Granada,  such  as  I  had  heard  were  preserved 
as  trophies  by  the  descendants  of  the  conquer- 
ors ;  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  I  was  the 


IRelics  and  (Senealoflies 


261 


more  curious  in  this  particular,  because  an 
erroneous  idea  has  been  entertained  by  many, 
as  to  the  costumes  of  the  Moors  of  Spain  ; 
supposing  them  to  be  of  the  usual  Oriental 
type.  On  the  contrary,  we  have  it  on  the 
authority  of  their  own  writers,  that  they 
adopted  in  many  respects  the  fashions  of  the 
Christians.  The  turban,  especially,  so  identi- 
fied in  idea  with  the  Moslem,  was  generally 
abandoned,  except  in  the  western  provinces, 
where  it  continued  in  use  among  people  of 
rank  and  wealth,  and  those  holding  places 
under  government.  A  woollen  cap,  red  or 
green,  was  commonly  worn  as  a  substitute ; 
probably  the  same  kind  originating  in  Barbary, 
and  known  by  the  name  of  Tunis  or  Fez, 
which  at  the  present  day  is  worn  throughout 
the  East,  though  generally  under  the  turban. 
The  Jews  were  obliged  to  wear  them  of  a 
yellow  color. 

In  Murcia,  Valencia,  and  other  eastern 
provinces,  men  of  the  highest  rank  might  be 
seen  bareheaded.  The  warrior  king,  Aben 
Hud,  never  wore  a  turban,  neither  did  his 
rival  and  competitor,  Alhamar,  the  founder 
of  the  Alhambra.  A  short  cloak  called  Tay- 
lasan,  similar  to  that  seen  in  Spain  in  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries,  was  worn  by 
all  ranks.  It  had  a  hood  or  cape  which  people 


262 


aibambra 


of  condition  sometimes  drew  over  the  head  ; 
but  the  lower  class  never. 

A  Moslem  cavalier  in  the  thirteenth  century, 
as  described  by  Ibn  Said,  was  equipped  for 
war  very  much  in  the  Christian  style.  Over  a 
complete  suit  of  mail  he  wore  a  short  scarlet 
tunic.  His  helmet  was  of  polished  steel  ;  a 
shield  was  slung  at  his  back  ;  he  wielded  a  huge 
spear  with  a  broad  point,  sometimes  a  double 
point.  His  saddle  was  cumbrous,  projecting 
very  much  in  front  and  in  rear,  and  he  rode 
with  a  banner  fluttering  behind  him. 

In  the  time  of  Al  Khattib  of  Granada,  who 
wrote  in  the  fourteenth  century,  the  Moslems 
of  Andalus  had  resumed  the  Oriental  costumes, 
and  were  again  clad  and  armed  in  Arabic 
fashion  :  with  light  helmet,  thin  but  well- 
tempered  cuirass,  long  slender  lance,  commonly 
of  reed,  Arabian  saddle,  and  leathern  buckler, 
made  of  double  folds  of  the  skin  of  the  antelope. 
A  wonderful  luxury  prevailed  at  that  time  in 
the  arms  and  equipments  of  the  Granadian 
cavaliers.  Their  armor  was  inlaid  with  gold 
and  silver.  Their  cimeters  were  of  the  keenest 
Damascus  blades,  with  sheaths  richly  wrought 
and  enamelled,  and  belts  of  golden  filigree 
studded  with  gems.  Their  daggers  of  Fez  had 
jewelled  hilts,  and  their  lances  were  set  off 
with  gay  banderoles.  Their  horses  were  capari- 


IRelics  an&  Genealogies 


soned  in  correspondent  style,  with  velvet  and 
embroidery. 

All  this  minute  description,  given  by  a  con- 
temporary, and  an  author  of  distinction,  verifies 
those  gallant  pictures  in  the  old  Morisco 
Spanish  ballads  which  have  sometimes  been 
deemed  apocryphal,  and  give  a  vivid  idea  of 
the  brilliant  appearance  of  the  chivalry  of  Gra- 
nada, when  marshalled  forth  in  warlike  array, 
or  when  celebrating  the  chivalrous  fetes  of  the 
Vivarrambla. 


Ube  aeneralife. 

HIGH  above  the  Alhambra,  ou  the  breast 
of   the   mountain,    amidst  embowered 
gardens  and  stately  terraces,  rise  the 
lofty  towers  and  white  walls  of  the  Generalife ; 
a  fairy  palace,    full   of   storied  recollections. 
Here  are  still  to  be  seen  the  famous  cypresses 
of  enormous  size  which  flourished  in  the  time 
of  the  Moors,  and  which  tradition  has  connected 
with   the   fabulous   story   of  Boabdil  and  his 
sultana. 

Here  are  preserved  the  portraits  of  many 
who  figured  in  the  romantic  drama  of  the 
Conquest.  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  Ponce  de 
I^eon,  the  gallant  Marquis  of  Cadiz,  and  Gar- 
cilaso  de  la  Vega,  who  slew  in  desperate  fight 
Tarfe  the  Moor,  a  champion  of  Herculean 
strength.  Here  too  hangs  a  portrait  which 
has  long  passed  for  that  of  the  unfortunate 
Boabdil,  but  which  is  said  to  be  that  of  Aben 
Hud,  the  Moorish  king  from  whom  descended 


The     Generalife    from     the     Torre 
Comares,  Alhambra. 


de 


<3eneraltfe 


265 


the  princes  of  Almeria.  From  one  of  these 
princes,  who  joined  the  standard  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  towards  the  close  of  the  Conquest, 
and  wag  Christianized  by  the  name  of  Don 
Pedro  de  Granada  Venegas,  was  descended 
the  present  proprietor  of  the  palace,  the  Marquis 
of  Campotejar.  The  proprietor,  however, 
dwells  in  a  foreign  land,  and  the  palace  has  no 
longer  a  princely  inhabitant. 

Yet  here  is  everything  to  delight  a  southern 
voluptuary :  fruits,  flowers,  fragrance,  green 
arbors  and  myrtle  hedges,  delicate  air  and 
gushing  waters.  Here  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  witnessing  those  scenes  which  painters  are 
fond  of  depicting  about  southem  palaces  and 
gardens.  It  was  the  saint's  day  of  the  count's 
daughter,  and  she  had  brought  up  several  of 
her  youthful  companions  from  Granada,  to 
sport  away  a  long  summer's  day  among  the 
breezy  halls  and  bowers  of  the  Moorish  palaces. 
A  visit  to  the  Generalife  was  the  morning's  en- 
tertainment. Here  some  of  the  gay  company 
dispersed  itself  in  groups  about  the  green  walks, 
the  bright  fountains,  the  flights  of  Italian  steps, 
the  noble  terraces  and  marble  balustrades. 
Others,  among  whom  I  was  one,  took  their 
seats  in  an  open  gallery  or  colonnade  com- 
manding a  vast  prospect ;  with  the  Alhambra, 
the  city,  and  the  Vega,  far  below,  and  the 


266 


Blbambra 


distant  horizon  of  mountains — a  dreamy  world, 
all  glimmering  to  the  eye  in  summer  sunshine. 
While  thus  seated,  the  all-pervading  tinkling 
of  the  guitar  and  click  of  the  castanets  came 
stealing  up  from  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and 
half-way  down  the  mountain  we  descried  a 
festive  party  under  the  trees,  enjoying  them- 
selves in  true  Andalusian  style ;  some  lying  on 
the  grass,  others  dancing  to  the  music. 

All  these  sights  and  sounds,  together  with 
the  princely  seclusion  of  the  place,  the  sweet 
quiet  which  prevailed  around,  and  the  delicious 
serenity  of  the  weather,  had  a  witching  effect 
upon  the  mind,  and  drew  from  some  of  the 
company,  versed  in  local  story,  several  of  the 
popular  fancies  and  traditions  connected  with 
this  old  Moorish  palace ;  they  were  ' '  such 
stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of, ' '  but  out  of  them 
I  have  shaped  the  following  legend,  which  I 
hope  may  have  the  good  fortune  to  prove 
acceptable  to  the  reader. 

END   OF  VOI,.  I. 


6 


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